


Skyrim: The Nelvanni Story (Book 1)

by JackGiggles



Series: The Nelvanniverse [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Lots of It, Blood, Character Death, College of Winterhold - Freeform, Fire Magic, Journal Entries, Magic, Original Character(s), Other, Platonic Relationships, Rating May Change, Skyrim Mods - Freeform, Swearing, Tags May Change, Thalmor have no rights, Thieves Guild (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, This is MY self indulgent au and I choose the canon, headcanons, there are so many ocs here I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26462626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackGiggles/pseuds/JackGiggles
Summary: Urvel Nelvanni ran away from his foster family, from the Imperial City all the way to Bruma when he decided to leave Cyrodiil behind for good. Join his journey as he stumbles through the icy tundra of Skyrim and tries to aggressively ignore the impending doom known as the Last Dragonborn Prophecy.(First edition of a long running series I have in the making called the Nelvanniverse.)
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: The Nelvanniverse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923754
Kudos: 5





	1. Entry #1: Helgan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Urvel Nelvanni writes in his journal to summarize what hell he has been through in just little under a week after running away from Cyodiil.

4E 201, 21st of last seed

I felt as if my life as been completely thrown for a loop, thrown into Oblivion and back. So much, and it all started on the 16th. I only now felt the need to try and put my journey so far into words, to even get close to figuring out what on earth happened and get my bearings, even if I don't consider myself a decent writer in any regard.

Does that even sound right, spoken aloud?

I had ran away from my home in Cyrodiil, in the snowy, nord-imperial city of Bruma. I was fostered by two nords on a farmhouse ever since my mother disappeared, out of the blue. I don't resent them, per say, I just grew so tired of that place, of Cyrodiil, where Thalmor roamed, that I needed to get away. Not make a name for myself or attract attention, just for a fresh start. Maybe I could'v start properly learning to control magic, as the Mages Guild went silent for a good few years. It was a good plan, in theory.

I tried to cross the boarder to Skyrim on the 16th, but I seemed to have chosen a horrible time to do so when I got caught in the middle of an ambush. Something about the Imperials and stormcloaks, I wasn't too sure. But for one reason or another I was dumped onto the back of a carriage, unconscious and bruised, with these "rebels".

Some-thing Stormcloak, a man named Ralof and some random horse thief. I couldn't remember anyone besides them, but I suppose its not important.

We were taken to a small town named Helgan, and I shiver to think what would of came to be my fate.

There was an executioner, a Thalmor agent I could see in the distance... but my thoughts were overwhelmed with fear to register anything else. I truly thought I was going to die, right there.

Ralof had muttered "Those imperial walls used to make me feel so safe as a boy" and I couldn't help but agree. How could these soldiers mistaken me as one of these... stormcloaks, who are clearly a nordic movement? What on earth would a dunmer have anything to do with it?

Ralof had advised to everyone on the cart that a dying mans last thoughts should be of home. I could only think back to the silly tales of my vanished mother- and be overcome with rage at the Thalmor. I knew they had something to do with her, an ex-blade.

Gods, I'm getting off track with the sentimental. I would run out of pages if I went on about that.

I don't think anyone can really forget what its like to watch a man get beheaded right in front of you. I didn't and still don't understand the purpose of public execution, and why they didn't just _Start_ with Ulfric. Seriously it was setting things up for disaster- especially after-

After almost having my head chopped off, a dragon appeared. Right out of the damned stories of old, a dragon landed on the tower right in front of me. Its eyes were like two rubies in a sea of night, two long stretching wings beating almost as loud as thunder in my ears. Ebony claws tearing through the stone tower like it was as soft as butter.

The attack went by in a blur to my eyes, I followed the blonde man in blue into the tower, jumped into a burning house-

trying to escape through those imperial prisons, fighting for my life. I didn't care who wore what color, I just wanted to survive another day. Me and this Ralof escaped outside, after barely just missing another sighting of the flying monstrosity. I stepped out of Helgan feeling different, larger then life but I still can't shake the feeling of dread.

Ralof took me to Riverwood, meeting his sister and her... husband? I can't quite remember. They gave me some supplies, after shaking away wary looks and asked if I could bring news to their Jarl (I have to assume that's the nord's version of 'Count') so he could station more guards to Riverwood. Its defenseless without reinforcements, Gurter said.

I bought more supplies and went for Whiterun. After all, I might as well- I may not care much for the village personally but I wouldn't want to leave them defenseless, in the wake of this Monster and really, it would be down right awful to refuse such a simple request.

I made my way to Whiterun and to the Jarl's throne, and was sent on a fetch quest by their court wizard. In exchange, he said he would show me some spell tomes and information where I could learn more, so I agreed to get this stone.

It was hell, like it always has been these couple of days.

The dead waking from their not-so eternal slumber, really why isn't burning the dead a more common practice if necromancers and other such force bring everyone back to life? It just seems absurd to basically give a necro-mage easy pickings.

I heaved through the spider crawling ruin and finally found the... what would you call it? An Inner Sanctum? Burial Chamber? Whatever it was, it had a landing with a large chest and coffin in the center, with a curious wall in the back- If I had to describe the feeling the wall gave, it was Ancient and Whispering. That would make me sound like a madman, and I wish I could say it didn't do anything.

But among the scratched letters and words, a language that I couldn't read, there was one that stood out.

I'm not a good writer or illustrator, but I know these seemingly random dashes of lines, somehow. A deep rumble in my heart every time I think on them-

But it doesn't matter what I thought they meant at the time of being in that ruin, as what happened next can never leave my mind or soul. Seeming literally.

A arrived with the 'dragon stone' and immediately there was panic. A dragon sighting, near a watch tower. I never really understood what my mother told me about the past coming to haunt you, sending your heart under ice and panic. She had faced Oblivion dozens of times, and never came out the same, despite appearances.

I now understand what she meant, as my heart lurched at the idea of fighting a Dragon.

Memories of black talons and red eyes pierced into my memory as I jogged ahead of Irileth and her bunch of guards who joined the fight all the way to the watch tower. I could hear in the distance, the beats of giant wings flapping.

It wasn't long at all before the dusty, two-legged dragon was spewing flames all over the tower, men ducking for shelter or risk being carried away. I could only stay near the entrance, pulling back and releasing arrows into its thick scales, or trying to shock it.

But numbers will dwindling, and I knew I had to face it head on eventually. I had ran out when it fell to the ground, dagger out and shocking him, feeling my magicka quickly start to run out. I consider it a foolish move now, especially jumping up and grabbing its horns, and sunk my dagger into the space between his two great horns which almost seemed like a crown.

I kept at it, mere seconds only feeling like an eternity as the dragon wildly swung his head and neck around, to shake me off.

I was thrown off, casting a wild bolt of electricity when I felt the ground rumble. He let out a bellowing roar, everyone wincing and covering their ears.

He belted out " _Dovahkiin, no!_ " as his scales started to burn away in a truly terrifying manner.

Colors and knowledge swarmed my mind and soul it felt like, and that one word I found in the barrow suddenly held meaning to me, like it was on the tip of my tongue for hours until it suddenly sparked.

I was testing the word and I felt overwhelmed as a sheer _force_ exited my throat, past my teeth and rattling the grand skeleton of the now deceased dragon.

I didn't pay attention to what those nord guards were saying, something about a 'dragonborn'. I ran, in the midst of the night, all the way to Whiterun and Dragonsreach. However, as I made it to the gates, the sky thundered loudly, shaking the world to its core as these 'greybeards' called out for 'Dovahkiin'. I almost lost my balance from the sudden call.

The jarl said it was a privilege, to be summoned by them and walk the seven thousand steps. He had thanked me for what I have done for his city, and I was announced as a Thane of Whiterun.

But I am still in shock, as I rest in the Bannered Mare for the night. I know I could not sleep, for flashes of those red, piercing eyes and the burning scales still haunt me. I had troubles sleeping before, but this I know would make it worse for months to come.

I plan to travel across skyrim, but staying far, far away from those seven thousand steps. I do not want to know what those old monks have to say, I don't want to know more. I will begin my journey to the College of Winterhold, as I over heard the barmaid mention it offhandedly. I can only hope I'm decent enough at reading maps to get me there safely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter, and post onto Ao3!
> 
> Originally Skyrim: The Nelvanni Story was first posted onto Quotev, but after realizing issues with the tagging system and knowing that, since this is Skyrim, I would look for a different platform to cross-post it. So here we are!


	2. Chance Arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Urvel isn't the best at reading low-quality maps.

Birds chirped overhead in the Rift, the orange colored leaves falling from the trees giving a comforting feeling of autumn in the air, despite filled with danger at every corner. The winding dirt paths and travelers coming to and fro-

**_"RAHHHH"_ **

A few birds startled, flying out of trees in a flurry as a frustrated, young Dunmer threw his hands into the air with a yell. He groaned in annoyance, rubbing his eye with one hand as he glared back down at the cheaply bought map. Scratchy writing that's suppose to symbolize each hold, but clearly the paths were lazily done, as they didn't really feel like they were aiming towards Winterhold at all.

He was warned that Winterhold was a cold, almost barren hold with barely anything in it. They blamed the mages, like always, but Urvel was certain he wasn't getting any warmer, figuratively speaking, to the icy wonderland of magic he sought for. Okay maybe not _Wonderland_ , but it was still something he was looking forward too. Almost the _only_ thing, really. What else did Skyrim have to offer, besides the college? _The Companions_? That thought makes him laugh.

So was he stubborn for not just hiring a carriage, or too poor to consider one?

Both. The answer was both. Not his fault a good amount of gold was taken from him while crossing the boarder.

" _Gods damned Imperials_ -" Urvel gave a groan of defeat, slumping against a tree and sliding down to sit on the ground, map in his lap which he glared daggers at. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes for a minute or two to try and calm his heart beat.

_"Breathe in, hold it... and let go..."_ The voice of his mother echoed in his mind, advice he remembered for whenever his emotions and irrational thoughts were getting the better of him, either from his night terrors or frenzied emotions he hadn't quite learned how to control yet. He repeated the breathing technique for a while, resting an arm over his eyes yet keeping an ear out for any noises that would raise alarm.

And a noise, he heard.

Footsteps along the stone path, almost like they're alternating between skipping and a casual stroll. Something wooden was also walking with them, a cane, maybe?

Urvel removed his arm from his eyes, squinting as he saw a figure being shadowed by the setting sun behind them. Then he scrambled up, watching as they casually leaned back, balancing on the balls of their feet. He narrowed his eyes at the stranger, who stood a fair distance away on the other side of the cobble stone road. They looked like Nordic descent, with a pale complexion and oddly, almost purple hair. But that didn't fit right with their more pointed ears and darker set eyes.

The stranger waved a bit with their free hand, the other holding a wooden staff that was nearly as tall as them.

"You lost, elf?" Well at least they weren't one of those aggressive Nord types ( _Bretons?_ )... yet _._ Hopefully they were as chill as they looked, he thought to himself. From entering Skyrim, he was immediately wary of any fur-covered Nord after hearing that one comment on his 'knife ears'. Granted, he still heard it in Cyrodill, but it still made him on guard and fairly bitter from then on.

"Maybe I am, what's it to you?" He kept his squint as the strange individual fiddled the staff in their hands, nails scraping against the wooden grooves.

"Well, I was just thinkin' that I could offer some help to the nearest city, perhaps gettin' a better map in the process?" They tilted their head and pointed a long nail at the shabbily drawn map.

"The road drawn there doesn't exist anymore, and Riften is south of Windhelm- I'm assumin' you're headin' to the college, right?"

Urvel glanced at the map then right back up at the nord. Their accent was a little strange, but he wasn't curious enough to wonder too much about that.

"How did you know that?" He asked, rather snappily as he stood up.

"Well, most people wearin' robes that clearly don't fit them well would probably be headin' to the one magical place in Skyrim. Am I right?" Urvel glanced down at his far too baggy robes and gave a sigh of defeat.

"If I do follow you to the city, what's to say you won't mug me?"

The stranger giggled a bit, shoulders bouncing. "Well if you're using such a shoddily made map and hand-me-down robes, you're probably not carryin' much of value, anyway. But I won't, that's not how I roll." As they were quieting their chuckles, they started back down the path in a slow pace, clearly waiting to see if Urvel would actually join them.

Figuring there was no other better option, Urvel slumped and followed behind, red eyes glancing around the wilderness as its fall foliage fell around them. They fell into a calm, if tense on Urvel's part, silence as they walked the stone path for a good while.

"So, who are you?" Urvel felt a little stupid not asking before following the nord, but whatever, too late for regrets now- better late then never, right?

The stranger smiled over their shoulder, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"I'm Samael, and you?"

"Urvel" He replied back, a little more hesitantly as Samael nodded.

"Nicee- oh, and we should be nearin'. See that in the distance?" He pointed at the skyline beyond the trees, and while squinting Urvel could make out the shape of towers.

"Guard towers, we're gettin' closer to Riften's gate."

"So.. what's Riften like? You seem to know a lot about this place."

Samael tilted their head in thought, before chuckling. 

" _Sin City_ , that's what it is. No joke, its rumored to be the home of a great, oily-like organization that robs the poor, threatens all those who prove a threat to their names... oh, and also home to the Thieves Guild." He giggled as Urvel blinked in slight surprise.

"Okay, what can be worse then the Thieves Guild?" Urvel did hear of stories of the infamous guild, mostly from his mother who said she was apart of them in Cyrodiil- for a while, before getting kicked out. Drunken antics, which he knew to be true.

"Ohh, you're really out of touch- the Black Briars. Evil sons a bitches, that bunch. All lead by Maven and her questionable mead making a lotta dough- er, gold. Rumor says she has connections to all sorts of shady workin's, stompin' any and all competition into the dirt."

_Geez_ , Urvel thought to himself, debating if its even worth it to go inside what's called Sin City. Samael shrugged their shoulders, though.

"But eh, don't worry, if you steer clear of that black haired she-devil you'll be fine." Samael reassured as slowly Urvel could see the infamous sounding hold in the distance now.

"Ohh I'm going to regret this, won't I?"

"Pft, maybe you will, maybe you won't- only one way to find out, huh?" Samael grinned.

* * *

After calling out a clear shakedown by the guards, Urvel and his guide were allowed inside, and already Urvel could sense the city held gloom and storm clouds over everyone's heads. Arguments right within earshot of the entrance, a really strange, bulky man was leaning against a wall, decked out in heavy iron armor with a glare that made Urvel turn the other way. Not worth it, _nope_ \- not even as the man called out before Urvel ducked behind an alley way with Samael.

"Just keep ya' head low, you'll be fine."

The two walked across one of the many bridges connecting the city, Urvel's sharp ears hearing the sound of a Nord woman threatening some poor bastard about something, people slowly starting to put and lock up shop for the day as night slowly neared, casting the world into an orange hue. It was really pretty- But Urvel was sure staying outside in the dark was asking for trouble, so he and Samael entered the 'Bee and the Bard', if he read the sign correctly. Or not, who cares, really?

"So, just for the record-" Samael turned to him, slumping in a seat nearby. "I'm heading to Whiterun tomorrow, so I think this is where our paths end. So- get a new map, and hire a carriage." He did an odd gesture with his hands, thump facing up and index pointed at him, and then went on to order something from a waiter.

Urvel nodded, glancing around the inn before walking up to the barmaid, asking for a room and digging through his light coin purse. About 180 gold, he can survive- hopefully. Maybe in the morning before he leaves he could sell some of the things he picked up in Bleak Falls Barrow-

"Running a little light in the pockets, lad?"

Urvel glanced back up quickly, immediately squinting at the man that was casually leaning against the wall, right near the staircase. "How much gold I have is none of your business." He snarled as the red head grinned.

"Oh, but that's where you're wrong, lad. Wealth is my business. Maybe you'd like a taste?"

Urvel hates that he was a little curious as to what that implied, but also very on guard as well.

".. what does that imply?"

The Nord smiled, sensing he did catch the Dunmer's attention to hear him out, for a second.

"Well, tomorrow I have a little scheme in the making, that could use a helping hand. If you're up for trying, you can meet me in the market place tomorrow, a little before noon. Right as stalls are starting to open."

"What would I have to do, then?"

"A little lock picking, a little sleight of hand- a child could probably do it. I need to get a man named Brand-Shei in a spot of trouble. You in? In my line of work, extra hands get payed well."

Right there, Urvel's ears flicked up as a suddenly realization washed over him.

"You're apart of the Thieves Guild, aren't you?" He whispered, so nobody might hear him, and his theory was confirmed with the red head's nod.

"Sharp one, aren't you? I can see you're a bit hesitant here, so think it over. I'll be out in the market tomorrow, let me know if you think you can handle it."

And with that, the thief walked away, leaving Urvel with a thousand-and-then-some thoughts to swirl in his mind.

Urvel was only in this 'Sin City' for at best 30 minutes, and already he's starting to get mixed up in the gods damned Thieves Guild. What even is his luck?

He managed to catch, from the entrance, Samael's knowing smirk in the dimly lit inn and shivered. That expression was way too knowing, _yeesh_.

He walked up the stairs, pushed open his room's door and slumped into bed, groaning into the lazily stuffed pillow. It was the best feeling bed he felt in years. He rolled over, staring at the wooden ceiling in consideration. Was he seriously thinking about helping the infamous Thieves Guild?

He tried to rationally think about this, sorting thoughts into pros and cons.

Cons? Well, the chance of getting _arrested_ for years outta deter him, bounties he maybe can't pay off?

What about his goal to join the College of Winterhold and learn to control his magicka? Surely if they found out about the thieving business, he'd be booted in an instant! Not to mention he had zero skills in this, it would be a miracle if he didn't get killed on sight for theft.

_What if they never found out, though?_ A traitorous little thought said, his impulse slowly leaning towards helping the scheme the red head offered.

The pro was, there was money in this. _Lots of money_. And who knows- maybe he could... wait? Stay at the college for awhile, study and train, maybe practice more skills he would need for thievery?

As he let the thoughts of today swarm him, he felt himself be lulled to sleep and succumb to darkness.

_"You realize that all your life you have been coasting along as if you were in a dream. Suddenly, facing the trials of the last few days, you have come alive."_ The voice that plagued him all his life whispered, like an echo.

* * *

It was another day, and Urvel awoke to noise downstairs, chattering civilians getting an early start for the day. He sat up, stretching and wincing as his back make a series of popping sounds. He shook his head, getting to his feet and grabbing his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he made his way outside, breathing in the fresh-if-fishy morning air, watching as people started hurrying down to the market place.

Remembering the Nord's offer, he steeled his will as he walked over to the stall where he saw the red head standing idly by, setting up a bunch of strange, red bottles on his own stall's table. When the Nord looked up from setting things up, he smiled, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners.

"Well, lad? Have you thought it over?"

Urvel took a deep breath before letting it go, nodding.

"Yeah, I'll- I'm up for what you have to offer." The red-head perked up, eyes glinting something mischievous.

"Smart choice, lad. Now, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to cause a distraction and you're going to steal Madesi's silver ring from a strongbox under his stand." The thief gestured to a stand across from them, a stall ran by an Argonian merchant. "Once you have it, I want you to place it in Brand-Shei's pocket without him noticing." Then, he gestured over to a Dunmer in a red-orange shirt.

Urvel felt his heart racing, but nodded. He could do this, _he could do this_.

Oh gods he was about to break the law, s _ave him._ Was this what his mother felt when she did her first theft for the guild? Riddled with anxiety and shaking hands? Probably not, she was most likely drunk during that.

"Okay- I'm ready" _Ready as I'll ever be,_ he thought to himself, slinking away as the nord began speaking in a louder voice, asking for everyone's attention. As they all glanced over, many wandering closer to hear better, Urvel shuffled his way across the market place, ducking behind crates and barrels before reaching Madesi's stall. He gulped, feeling his heart pound against his chest as he took out his lockpicks, trying to keep his hands steady.

' _Remember what mum told you, remember what mum told you_ ', he chanted, letting her words enter his memory about how she learned to lockpick, all inspired from reading ' _The Locked Room_ ' and ' _The advanced Lockpicking_ '.

Before Urvel knew it, he managed to open the stall door, and quickly got to work on the strong box. He thought more on his mother telling him of lock picking, to keep his mind from edging into anxiety which would turn into a frenzy. Breaking a pick or two, he managed to crack it open, swiping the silver ring up.. and taking a few things for himself. Why not, if he's already committing a good few crimes today?

He slowly crept towards the Dunmer, who sat on a crate facing away from Urvel. Slowly, _painfully slow_ , Urvel gently shuffled the coin purse attached to his belt open enough for the silver ring to slip inside.

' _Please don't hear it, please don't hear it-_ ' he chanted in his head, feeling hyper aware of all sounds as he heard the gentle noise of tiny metal hitting gold coins.

Thankfully, Brand-Shei wasn't any wiser, and Urvel crawled away in a hurry, letting go of a breath of air he didn't realize he was holding for a good while. Gods that was stressful, but... surprisingly satisfying.

That adrenaline rush was terrifying but _strangely_ nice.

Urvel stood up and walked over to the Nord, watching as the crowd, rather annoyed, dissipate and go back to their booths.

"Well, well, you done it?"

Urvel nodded, not expressing much as his hands shook from extra nerves coursing through him from a job done. Well done? Perhaps not, but it was finished without him getting arrested, which is good enough for the Dunmer.

"Well, lad, guess I picked the right person for the job. And for you, payment." The Nord smiled, reaching over and handing a pretty good sized coin purse to Urvel. It shook with a good hundred or so septims, more then he would'v ever made skipping out and just selling junk he collected.

"The way things have been going around here, it's a relief that our plan went off without a hitch"

Urvel tilted his head, pocketing his payment away safely. "Something's wrong here lately?"

The Nord shrugged. "Bah, just a run of bad luck in my organization, I wouldn't worry about it, lad. Speaking of... we never did share names, did we?" The Nord chuckled a bit.

"Yeah, I was wondering if I was just going to have to call you 'red head' or something." Urvel couldn't help but let a laugh escape him, yet he was mentally kicking himself for trusting this man already. Okay maybe not _trust_ , per say, more... tolerating.

"My name is Brynjolf, and you?"

"Urvel Nelvanni." Urvel felt like he shouldn't share any last names, but fuck it at this point. Not like the name Nelvanni held much meaning.

The two shook hands, both deciding to sit down on some crates as they glanced over to the booths across from them. Brand-Shei was already caught falsely red handed with the ring, and all the while Urvel couldn't find it in himself to feel that much guilt, despite knowing his heart should churn at what he did. Well, it was going to happen anyway, right? Either he or Brynjolf would have done the job.

"Well, lad, you did a job well done, and there's easily more where that came from... if you think you can handle it, that is."

Brynjolf was able to look beyond the Dunmer and see he was a bit jittery, from subtle fidgeting with the edge of his sleeves or hair. Years working like this taught him to notice those things.

"Oh... here's the thing... I never done anything like that, really. I don't think I'd do that well in your guild." Urvel muttered, scratching his neck a bit, growling as he noticed a nail was chipped as it got caught in his long hair. "And I was aiming to head for Winterhold today."

"Ah, for the College?"

"Yeah, I wanted to learn to control my magic more- and again I don't think I'm exactly fit to join a guild of thieves."

"Well, I was able to see you a mile away, even if nobody else did. But here's this-" Brynjolf rolled his head, Urvel barely able to hear audible cracks.

"Whenever you feel like you're able to do so, the Ratway is always open. It can be years, but the Guild can wait for ya'." Brynjolf then looked like he suddenly remembered something, and dug around in a bag beside his booth. "And as both a parting present and personal thank you-" He then handed a small, black ring towards Urvel.

"A ring?" Urvel picked it up, looking at it closer and noticing it had strange markings, almost Nordic and familiar... kinda like the symbols he seen on the strange wall back in bleak falls barrow.

"Yeah, it was kind tossed around a lot in my guild, pretty old. It has some enchantments that will make any further mischief easier." The two stood up, and Urvel nodded.

"Alright, thank you, and... I'll think about your offer."

Brynjolf nodded in return.

"There's always a slew of jobs up for grabs, lad. I hope you do consider joining."

And with that, they both went their separate paths, Urvel quickly making a stop at a booth that was selling maps. And he did quickly learn his map was _very_ out dated and shabby, so with his new money bought a better quality map and went outside the gates, looking out at the fog beyond. He walked up to a carriage that was nearby the stables.

"How many to start traveling for Winterhold?"

Paying for the ride, Urvel leaned back and watched through lazy eyes at Riften getting further and further away in the fog.

Tomorrow was another day.


	3. Winterhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter, he finally reaches Winterhold...
> 
> and doesn't have money for the text books. Its just like real college.

Urvel was horribly exhausted and weary by the time he reached the frozen over city known as Winderhold. After many carriage rides from Riften, to Windhelm and finally here... it really, _really_ wasn't much of a sight to behold. It was a crumbling ruin, a shadow of its former self, as he was told many times. But it was a different thing to see it then just hear stories, he mused as he walked by the destroyed remain of what was their gate. There were long abandoned and obliterated houses, some halved and hanging of the edge of the cliff over the freezing water below.

But he was far too tired to give it more thought, as he lumbered his way to the one inn Winerhold had. Inside warmed him slowly, chasing away the cold as night time leered over the small town. Should he call it a town? Maybe it was polite- or everyone was tired of hearing that, knowing full and well the state of things. Whatever the case, he slumped at a table as he felt his bones get heavier by the second. He knew he should eat something before sleeping, so he dug around in his bag for anything that would sustain himself for the night after such a long travel. That was when he sensed someone sit at the other end of the bench, at least having the decent respect to sit at the far edge.

"Here for the Statue of Azura, elf?" A deep, Nordic accent filled the silence, and Urvel glanced up at the Nord.

"No." Urvel replied bluntly, but nonetheless curious. Why would there be a statue to Azura all the way out here in racist Nord territory? Well, there was the boarder, wasn't there, and the Red Year... maybe that's what it was.

"Ah, suppose you're hear for the college then. Bunch of trouble makers I swear, so watch yourself. Could get blown up the second you step inside those walls." The Nord rolled his eyes, which held tired bags under them as he slipped away to do his own thing.

And there it was, the mistrust of mages between Nords. What did he expect, honestly?

But now, as he munched on an apple did he feel an odd twist in his gut when he thought about the Daedric shrine, and at first he couldn't quite name the feeling. It was strange, Urvel never thought much about the princes until that moment, as his mother, strange for a Dunmer, refused Daedric worship, even of the three.

Well, he could worry about that later, he thought as he finished the apple to its core and disposing it. It made sense, after all his family never lived in Morrowind, even before the tragic Red Year. At least from what his mother said.

That was probably for the better.

* * *

Urvel spent the rest of his time at the inn resting, as well trying to muster up the will to brave the cold once more. Its been a few hours by now, probably noon for all he knew. He huffed, glancing around before summoning a small flame in his palm, trying to warm his thin fingers which started going deeper-purple at the tips. He wasn't at frost bite levels yet to be dangerous, no- its just Dunmer ran hot and cooled very quickly, and he was paying for that.

Dark elves didn't go pink-to-blue-to-black like many others did, but directly fading to black at their noses, ears and fingers. He really needed to get to the college before he turns into a Popsicle.

Putting a brave face on, he left the inn, hissing as the cold air sapped any warmth he gathered from indoors. He quickly started down the faded path west through the run down town, looking up at the large building that at first glance seemed impressive and grand, for what happened during the 'Great Collapse' years ago.

As he neared the bridge to the college did he realize someone stood stationary at the entry way, an Altmer leaning against the cold stone wall and idly playing with a flame spell. Her nose was pink from the frosty wind, and a look of absolute boredom was etched onto her expression.

"Excuse me?" His voice, naturally already quiet, was a bit hard to hear over the wind. But, the Altmer glanced over, magic being whisked away into the breeze as she stood tall.

"Ah, let me guess- you're another who's seeking the college, aren't you? And yes, the bridge is disastrous as it looks."

Urvel's ears flicked a bit, raising an eyebrow as he noticed she looked like this had happened many times.

"I'll assume this is a common thing, then?"

"Oh you have no idea. But we're getting of topic," She cleared her throat. "You're wanting to join, correct? And for what purpose, if any?" She rose an eyebrow, Urvel tucking his hands in a vain attempt to keep them warm, and out of slight nerves he refused to express.

"I came here just to see what it looks like. No, I came here to harness my magic further."

_'Learning to control wild magical fire balls which accidentally burnt off my foster father's eyebrows that one time'_ went unspoken for now.

The Altmer gave a small smirk, and Urvel was always thankful to at least share a snarky sense of humor with.

"Heh, humor is always an appreciated sight. Too many tight lipped wizards and elves. And yes, that is indeed a reasonable goal to seek the college out. But here's the thing- what can you offer the college? We cannot just let anyone in."

Fuck there was a test wasn't there?

"If you prove to have enough magical skill or potential, I will grant you access across the bridge. A simple test, sound good?"

Damn it, there goes his chance. He only knew a handful of spells and not the most impressive magicka pool-

_Calm down, Urvel, see what this test is first_ , the more logical part of his mind whispered. It can't be impossible, right?

"What would this test be?"

"Hmm... if you can summon a Flame Atronach, I will let you pass."

Ah _shit_.

"I... don't know that spell." Urvel refused to let his ears lower as his stomach grew heavy, even if the Altmer wouldn't be able to see it from underneath his hood.

"No? Well, I do have a tome for it, if you have say... 150 gold, you could buy it and come back when you can summon it?"

Urvel was short at only 80 gold, from buying necessary supplies and carriage rides all the way up here. And he probably would be scrapping at the bottom of the barrel if he wanted a carriage ride back to a place like Windhelm, which was the last place on his mind.

Urvel let out a breath, a heavy huff, watching with slowly squinting, deep red eyes as the mist faded into the air. Tck, all that for nothing. One part of his brain reminded him as he took a step back maybe he should... what? Apologize? Wasting the elf's time?

Even if he was the one who clawed his way here from bloody Cyrodiil, only to not have enough gold for a spell to pass a test. Yeah, sure! Fair enough, since it seems only those with previous magical talent can go in!

The Altmer huffed a bit, cracking her neck as if she stood there for a long time, standing straight up as a guard of sorts. And she probably was, if her bored expression gave it away.

"Well, if you can't afford it, I cannot let you in. You can most likely check merchant shops for a similar tome, or check in with court wizards, they also sell spells-" she then squinted, not at Urvel, no, at something _behind_ Urvel. "... or meet our local freelancer."

It was then he heard footsteps crunching in the snow, getting closer. He turned around, being met with the sight of a leather-armored chest and then looking up to see a pale white complexion.

"Well hello there, Faralda. How's bridge duty today?" A very tall and surprisingly built Altmer grinned at the college mage, wearing amour of thick leather, hides and fur to protect against the ice and snow. Bit of a strange sight to see here, really. Urvel knew he would see a good few high elves out here, what with their skill with magicka, and that wasn't the surprising thing. It was the armor, the Nordic braids in the Altmer's white hair that kept it out of his eyes. Faralda seemed to have known this new individual well enough, if the roll of her eyes and leaning against the stone wall in a very relaxed manner was a good enough sign.

"As usual. Dull, and you know this, Vancano."

Vancano let out a light laugh, glancing over to the smaller elf who stood rather awkwardly among the two giant beanpoles people call elves.

"Oh hey, can't say I'v seen you around here before, new student?" Vancano asked with a curious glimmer in his eyes and a friendly smile displayed.

"No, I was about to get going." Urvel spoke sharply yet lowly, almost to himself as he turned to go back down the path to town, before Vancano put his hand up and stopped him.

"Wait, no, let me guess. You don't know a very specific spell to pass the gate test and don't have the money?" Vancano glanced back to Faralda with a raised eyebrow, laying the sass on so thick that would even made an average high elf from the Summerset Isles crumble under its bitchiness. "Am I right?"

"Vancano, its the rules. I'm sorry I can't let _Every_ single mage inside the college walls." Faralda held her hands up in defense at the battlemage, who only rolled his eyes.

"Tck, so what, like four new students so far this year? One more couldn't hurt." He sauntered up, looking down at Urvel and nodding.

"I mean, you came all this way to try, and that's not easy for many. Also this is a college- you know, a place people go to learn stuff? Its certainly no Mages Guild." He shook his head, watching as the gate keeper sigh deeply, like this might not have been the first time they had this conversation.

"Fine, whatever- if you can teach him to summon a Flame Atronach, I'll let him in." She squinted as Vancano nodded in agreement with a grin.

"Deal, you're on. That is uh, if you're up for it...?"

Urvel stared at the tall mer for a bit, trying to sort out his frazzled brain to see if this was actually happening. He first thought his efforts were for naught- but then a random battlemage waltzed up and offered to teach him, because he could? There had to be a price for this, right?

Oh oblivion with it, this his one chance, ' _don't look a gift horse in the mouth_ ', or however that metaphor goes. He was certain his mother made it up.

"...Sure, why not." He shrugged as he watched Vancano's eyes brighten up a bit. "and, I'm Urvel."

"Alright, good choice! C'mon, I know a spot we can practice without any Nords getting huffy about magic flying all over the place. And nice to meet you, Urvel."

With that, Vancano started down the path, seeming to discard whatever he originally came to the college for as Urvel reluctantly followed as Faralda could only shake her head.

* * *

Soon, the two elves acquainted themselves as they walked down a snowy trail down to a wide, empty field of a lot of nothingness. Urvel could smell the salty sea, though.

"So, just so we know where to begin, what spells do you already know?" Vancano asked, looking at Urvel from where they walked side by side with a comfortable distance apart.

"Uhmm..." Urvel thought for a moment, going through a mental library of sorts. "A simple flame spell, basic sparks spell, although I don't use it much, really drains my magicka pool. And muffle." 

Vancano was nodding along as Urvel listed the few spells he did figure out so far, and Urvel glanced up at him, kicking a stone out of the path awkwardly.

"Yeah- its not impressive, I know.

"Eh, don't worry about it kid. We all start somewhere." Vancano summoned a bright and colorful flame into his palm. "And luckily I'm around to give a helping hand. So how much do you use fire magic?"

Feeling like he should join in presenting his ( _albeit lacking_ ) magical skill, Urvel summoned a smaller flame on his finger tips.

"I try and use it daily, I even tried cooking with it when I remember." Granted Urvel didn't think slightly burning a rabbit leg counted as cooking. 

"Well its something and you are trying to harness it outside of combat. That's good." Vancano smiled, waving the flame around, the flame reaching high as it almost looked like a tail of a creature as the movements were fluid-like. "Many don't mention it, but each type of destruction spells are focused on the caster's emotions and intentions."

With a flash of light Vancano, using both hands which turned into a violet color, casted a circle rune onto the ground with the oblivion symbol, and out came a Flame Atronach, that floated idly in the air. Despite the horrific stories he heard of them raining chaos from above, this one was quite... docile.

"And with this spell having such a heavy connection to Conjuration, a school where one must have a clear head to bind pieces of Oblivion to your aid, it can be tricky for most."

Urvel only stood, listened and nodded along, watching with fascination as the Atronach eventually fizzled away.

"So, if you're not careful and think too far ahead, you will summon your own demise. Trust me, its not pretty to watch someone be chased by their own intended-companion." Vancano chuckled to himself, like he remembered something funny from awhile ago. Urvel could only picture a summoner running in circles as its own conjured creature chased them.

"Normally I wouldn't suggest learning an Atronach spell for someone's first Conjuration spell, but whatever. And you're a Dunmer, summoning your old ancestors is a thing, right?"

Urvel then paused, squinting before shaking his head. Truth be told, his mother never taught him of that ancestor spirit thing Dunmer apparently knew how to do. And from what he read, he probably couldn't even do it, having never worshiped his ancestors or anything like that. He doubted there'd be any worth to that, anyway.

What good can they do? They're dead.

Slowly Vancano started working Urvel through the details of binding the elemental Daedra to the Dunmer, and many safety measures in case the creature goes rogue and attacks him.

"And I would suggest learning ice magic, that obviously tires them out quickly-"

"You sure know a lot, don't you." _And talk a lot_ , but Urvel didn't say that part out loud.

Vancano chuckled a bit, now standing beside Urvel as they both held similar-sized flames in their hands.

"Yeah, I'v been told. Guess that's what old age does."

Urvel tilted his head, looking at the taller elf. "Yeah? How old are you anyway?"

"Pff, anyone told you that you shouldn't ask someone's age?"

"No, they told me not to ask a _Lady's_ age, nothing about a buff as shit wizard's age."

Vancano let out a laugh, and Urvel couldn't help but crack the faintest smile at catching the battlemage off guard.

"How rude. But to answer your question; Too Old." Well that's informative. _Not_.

"How helpful."

"You're welcome, but back to business. Now, as you cast it you should be able to develop a connection to the Infernace, molten rock and blazing heat, like you can boil an egg on your leg kind of heat." Urvel shook his head at the mental image.

"Now, try and pin-point on one entity, focus on their energy and life force to distinguish them from the others."

Urvel squinted, closing his eyes as he pictured the lava-realm of Atronachs, under no specific control of a Prince. Blazing hot rivers and darkened stone. His thoughts wandered a bit, to when he first saw Vancano summon his own Atronach and how the energy radiated off the Daedra. Power, barely contained by binding spells to a mortal's whim.

Soon, he felt a similar spark of power, and clutching his hands there was blinding light in front of him, a ghastly voice screeching to the skies above. Opening his eyes, Urvel held his breath as he saw flames spew around empty field of melting snow.

"Urvel, focus and cast the binding rite." Vancano said over the Daedric shouts, and he gulped as he focused on the wild Atronach in front of him. Urvel casted the binding spell, hands glowing purple as the Atronach tried to flee, spitting hatred and spite towards the mortals in front of it. Like it was surrounded in purple specter chains, the flame atronach suddenly disappeared from sight, the only evidence of his existence being the burnt ground and melted snow. Urvel's heart dropped heavily. He didn't fuck the binding up, did he?

"Where did it go?"

However, Vancano's expression was nothing but happy as he held a thumbs up.

"Back to its realm, that just happens when it extends too much power all at once. But you did it!"

Urvel's ears flicked up, fidgeting with his hands.

"I did?"

"Yeah, and first try too! See, I told you that it would work just fine."

Urvel rolled back and forth on the balls of his feet, heart pounding a bit as he felt nerves hit an all time high, but more from what he could call excitement now. Or adrenaline, that was also a reason. Vancano dug around in his bag, moving things out of the way as he grabbed a small, blue bottle.

"How's your magicka doing?"

"... kinda woozy, I won't lie." Urvel took the offered potion, sipping it as he felt his magicka replenish itself faster with a little boost- with an extreme floral taste he can recognize as mountain flowers.

"Yeah, that happens. We should give it a minute or two before trying to summon it again." Vancano explained, deciding to take a seat on the patch of snow-free ground from the earlier flame spewing Daedra.

Urvel nodded, deciding to do the same to rest up more. They sat there for a moment, Urvel tapping his fingers on his knee as Vancano seemed content to look up at the clouds and blue sky.

"... Hey. Why did you decide to help me?"

Vancano looked over to the Dunmer with a raised eyebrow. "Hm? Why wouldn't I?"

Urvel waved his hands a bit, shrugging. "I mean- what do you gain helping me, you know I don't have much gold on me to begin with."

With that, Vancano shrugged, turning to look more fully at him.

"Hey, I wanted to help because I could, and honestly- I'v lived a long time, _far_ too long honestly, and it'd be a waste if I didn't share what I learned after everything. And you have potential and came up all this way, I knew you'd put that knowledge to use, with determination like that."

Urvel shuffled a bit were he sat, gripping his arms as the chill started returning.

"So don't worry about repaying me or whatever, okay? I wanted to help because I wanted to." Vancano finished, and Urvel could only nod in return, content enough with that explanation, although he couldn't help but wonder...

How old is Vancano, to say and do stuff like that?

"Thanks."

"No problem kid."

* * *

They spent the rest of the evening with Urvel practicing to cast the conjuration spell a couple of times, just so the younger mer can commit the spell and process to memory and hopefully, be able to get into the habit of it to use in battle.

"If that's your style, that is." Vancano commented offhandedly at the fifth or so cast as they deemed it that Urvel got the hand of it.

"I don't know, I only just started fighting these past few days, so we'll see what happens I guess."

Vancano nodded along. "Mhm, and don't forget; It's never to late to pick up an entirely new batch of skills."

Urvel then pointedly looked at the sword on Vancano's side. "Like being a good wizard and then deciding ' _Hey lets go to warrior school_ '?" Vice versa went unspoken, yet understood, as Vancano nodded with a laugh.

"Exactly."

They started back up the path to Winterhold, Urvel sipping on another magicka potion at Vancano's insistence it would be for the better, but that he should rest up once they get inside ( _Urvel's eternal voice said_ If _they did_ ) as relying on potions long term isn't a good habit to be in. Urvel couldn't help but joke Vancano almost functioned like a dad, which did make sense. Maybe his want to teach people magic was spurned from that? Urvel can easily picture tiny, gremlin versions of Vancano running circles around him.

But he didn't dwell on that for much longer as they found their way to the gateway with Faralda still standing watch, almost dozing off after the few hours.

"Hey, Faralda." Vancano called out, the girl jolting up right as she blinked.

"Hm? Oh, you're finished?"

Vancano only nodded with a big smile, stepping aside to let Urvel stand before the small circle embedded on the bridge entry way. Urvel paused for just a moment, before taking a deep breath and reminding himself of what he already done a few times.

Faralda let herself relax just a bit as she blinked her eyes closed from the flash of purple and orange light, humming lowly as she watched the newly summoned Flame Atronach lazily do flips in the air. 

"Well done, I suppose you proven yourself capable to join the college." Faralda rolled her head a bit, ears flicking at the sound of crackling from her neck. Guess she had been standing there station for a few hours, Urvel thought as she moved aside.

"Vancano, since you seemed to have taken up showing him magic, maybe you'd be more fitting to take him to Mirabelle? Someone still needs to keep watch."

The battlemage rolled his eyes, and Urvel could only aquatint it to a thing Altmers did a lot if they hadn't rolled their eyes out of their skulls by now.

"Uh-huh, yeah- c'mon." Vancano started up the steps, gesturing for Urvel to follow behind him and Urvel just went along with it, quietly slinking behind Vancano as the two started traversing the crumbling bridge.

"I'd watch my step if I were you, there's a reason people don't like coming and going to this place."

"Like people slipping and cracking their heads open?" Urvel dead panned as he looked down at the support beams holding the bridge up, feeling like he was almost walking a tight-rope. It was honestly kind of terrifying to look down and see chunks missing from the bridge.

"Morbid, but correct." 

They finally found their way to the large gate and with a gentle push it swung open, revealing a large statue in the middle of the court yard, where another Altmer and a Breton were arguing. Although the Altmer's uniform looked quite... familiar.

Oh, _oh_.

Urvel squinted and glared daggers at the black-and-gold robed Thalmor agent, remembering watching those vile agents walking the streets of Cyrodiil. His mother hiding him behind a tree one morning as a Thalmor was walking around like he owned the place, right in the middle of Bruma. Vancano could only look to the expression of pure hate on Urvel's face.

" _Who knew someone so small can hold so much anger?_ " He thought to himself, and nudged the Dunmer.

"You see that whimpy fucker over there? That's Ancano."

"Why in oblivion are there Thalmor here?" Urvel hissed with venom, his chest feeling like it was boiling with disgust. Vancano sighed in deep exasperation, seeming to be deep down just as annoyed as Urvel was.

"He showed his ugly mug here not long after I did. Some kind of 'advisor' to improve Thalmor relations or some crap. He's definitely just peeking around as a spy or some garbage like that." He shook his head, eyeing the agent. "More of a common sense thing, y'know?"

Urvel huffed, crossing his arms. "Yeah, sure."

"Hey, don't let this get in the way of enjoying the college. He can't really do anything- listen."

Urvel flicked his ears towards the conversation, focusing on the words beyond in the icy wind.

"-you are here at the behalf of the Arch-Mage, and it would do you some good to remember that, Ancano. Now, I have work to get back to."

Urvel watched as the agent slumped back inside the college walls, and Vancano started walking up to the Breton.

"Ah, hello Vancano, how was your scouting to the nearby ruins?" She had asked, turning fully to look at Vancano.

"Good, its a nice spot that could be a good hands-on experience for newer students to study." He said, handing some notes over from his bag to her. "Oh, and we got a new student." He barely contained a laugh as he looked over his shoulder at Urvel, waving for him to step up closer.

"Really now? We'v been getting quite a few these past years." She shifted to look directly at Urvel now. "I am Mirabelle Ervine, Master Wizard, and I welcome you to our college. You are?" She held out her hand, and Urvel fumbled a bit before giving his and shaking.

".. Urvel- Urvel Nelvanni." 

Mirabelle nodded, and then took notice of the state Urvel was in after days of traveling.

"I suppose we should begin getting you registered, hm? Come, follow me inside so I can make a report, and Vancano?"

"Yeah?" Vancano looked like he was about to head into what looked like a green-house, if the windows filled with green was any indication.

"Since there are more students appearing more lately, you would not mind if you shared your quarters, yes? Many are still disaster zones and full of junk."

He only shrugged in response. "Eh, sure, I don't mind. I'm usually out and about anyway."

"I thought so." Mirabelle laughed a bit at that. "You would basically have a room to yourself, with Vancano occasionally crashing there for the night."

Urvel, uncertain and out of his element with social interactions, only nodded as he was lead indoors, finally having a breath of relief as he escaped the cold.

* * *

Urvel was curled up on a chair, finally able to put down his hood and not have his ears fall off. He and Mirabelle were quickly running through Urvel's basic background and skill levels for documenting, as she explained it would help them in the long run figure out what classes he should take first before branching out.

"By the way..."

"Yes?" Mirabelle looked up from her scroll.

"Is Vancano apart of staff here? I heard the girl near the front calling him a 'freelancer' or something..."

At that, she huffed a small laugh with a shake of the head. "Ah, yes our resident battlemage is an oddball here. No, he's not staff, or at least officially. He found his way up here one morning, passed the entry test and... well, did his own thing. Never caused real trouble, so we never questioned him."

"What does he do, then?"

"He runs errands a lot, adventuring all around Skyrim. I believe he said he was searching for something or someone, but I can't quite recall what else, and frankly it was never our business to begin with. Although newer mages are always gossiping, you know how it is."

Urvel hummed a bit, but didn't say or ask much else after that. He was allowed to leave, and with brand new robes at that! Ones that didn't hang and bunch up awkwardly on his elbows or get caught in doorways or fences. And they didn't have bloodstains, and that's always nice.

Leaving the office, he found Vancano standing idly by, and with a quick wave walked up to Urvel, who was desperately fighting a yawn back at this point.

"Hey, see you're done with all the technical stuff."

"Ah, yeah, guess I am. Its uh...."

"Its...?" Vancano inquired, tilting his head.

"Weird, I guess. To finally be here."

"Mh, I see it. I mean its no Mages Guild, but y'know, its something else alright."

"Already that feels like an understatement." Urvel let out a low huff of a laugh.

"Oh you haven't seen anything yet, kiddo. But maybe for another day, you seem dead on your feet. I can show you to the sleeping quarters, if you want?"

"That sounds..." _Nice, great, amazing, lets pass the fuck out._ "... Okay."

"Pfft, okay, let's go." With a gentle, guiding hand Urvel was lead across the court yard and into another section of the college, and already he could hear the quiet snores of his now-roommates. "I live right here, and don't worry about storage, I don't have much anyway." Opening the first door on the left Urvel just about made a break for the nearest bed, collapsing in a heap and only faintly able to hear Vancano laughing lowly, as to not disturb anyone else.

"Heh, get some rest kiddo."

And with that, the door closed behind him and Urvel felt himself drifting away.

_'You realize that you are catching on to the secret of success. It's just a matter of concentration'_


	4. Safety Dance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Classes have started and Tolfdir announced there would be a field trip to a ruin. What can go wrong with a bunch of hyper-active mages in a deadly tomb?

_4E 201, 10th of Sun's Dusk_

_It has been roughly three months or so since I had first joined the College of Winterhold, and I wanted to attempt summarizing my experiences so far._

_A kind elf named Vancano, who was the one who made it possible for me to join when I first arrived, has been of great help over the months. He's almost like an unoffical teacher here, as he shares with me his notes and scrolls of various spell types to help me branch out my skills. He is quite fond of destruction magic, of the fire variety specifically._

_And when I write 'fond' I more mean he looks like a pyromaniac who barely manages to contain his own excitement._

_I learned of this after we went on an ill-advised trip to a random bandit camp outside Windhelm. Watching him use the poor bastards as morbid target practice. It was a sight to behold, frankly._

_But his fire mania aside, he's also pretty funny and easy to talk with. I must admit it made my stay within the college much easier, especially since I'm usually unease at being so near a Thalmor. We even play the most harmless and yet Irritating pranks on him, and while Mirabelle expresses disappointment she nor the Arch-Mage done anything big to stop us._

_Today I heard that we were having a lesson on safety measures when dealing with ancient magicks later in the evening, and I'm curious what will be taught. So far it has mostly been history and research from the Arcanium, but I heard rumors that there would be a more direct approach to learning magic._

* * *

Urvel paused in his quick-paced writing, putting his journal down on his lap as he stretched his arms over his head, wincing as his legs gave another pulse of numb-like pain. Ah yes, that was a weird thing to wake up to one morning, and it never quite went away, even after a week. To say it was annoying is an understatement. At least their resident potion making professor was kind enough to give him a tonic to make that weird numb-pain more bearable.

He shook his head, leaning against the wall as he glanced out the window, seeing high above the entirety of Winterhold, and if he squinted, the vague figure of a tall statue, so far away he'd miss it if he hadn't heard of it prior.

Azura's Statue stood tall and proud in the far distance and... something within him twisted at that thought. He frowned deeper, squinting as an odd and currently unidentified feeling boiled in his gut, a bad taste in his mouth as his mood soured. He shook his head, and stood up. He walked over to the door and pushed it open, grabbing his bag from where it once rested in a nearby chair.

"Van?" He called out, glancing around the hall of Countenance, raising an eyebrow until he heard a laugh from the stairs above, and down came Vancano in normal mages robes instead of his normal leather armor. He was in conversation with one of the senior mages, a Bosmer who Urvel remembers always knew how to find weird and rather unique artifacts.

"-so let me know if you hear anything about the city, hm?"

Enthir rolled his eyes, nodding along with a mumbled agreement, still having a smirk from whatever they were originally talking about. Probably another scheme to bother Ancano, he had to guess.

"Yeah yeah, you weirdo. Now get going, I have some stuff to see to."

Vancano nodded and the two departed, which is when Urvel decided to step up to the Altmer.

"What was that about?" Urvel asked, walking besides Vancano.

"Ah, nothing to worry about. Just wanted to see if Enthir had any information about something I'v been looking into."

"Uh-huh, alright... by the way, wasn't Tolfdir holding a class today?"

Vancano paused, then nodded, snapping his fingers like it suddenly hit him. "Oh yeah, he was! C'mon, don't wanna be late, huh?"

Urvel gave a small huff of laughter as Vancano playfully nudged him to walk towards the door, following closely behind.

"I think this may be your first alternation lesson, which is fun! Though might be a bit tricky..."

"Well I already know some illusion-" Opening the door made the hair on Urvel's arms stand up, and he hurried to pull his scarf over the bottom of his face. "Alteration can't be too far off, right?"

"I mean you say that, but Illusion and Alternation are near opposites, in mind set." Vancano replied, attempting to shrug off the cold.

"Picture this. A mage who can alter reality faces off a mage who can make it _appear_ reality is altered." Vancano explained, summoning two different spells into his palms. Urvel frowned, pausing mid stride towards the hall of elements.

He shook his head.

"I take that back."

Vancano chuckled.

"Yeah, learning both is pretty tricky, and fighting someone who knows both is a nightmare. Metaphorically and literally."

"Remind me to never fight them, then." Urvel couldn't begin to imagine seeing something and something else entirely happening in front of his eyes, reality crumbling around him. Maybe his brain would just shut down from overloading, conflicting sensations and information. Huh, kind of sounds like how his mom described a brief interaction with Hermaous Mora.

"Wise move. I met a couple before and let me tell you, they can whoop your ass into high Aetherius." Vancano laughed heartily, and they walked through the gates leading to the Hall of Elements.

"But yea, keep your head clear and it'll come to you." Vancano shrugged, deciding to stake this out and simply watch as Urvel inched his way closer to the class, which had only now begun.

Tolfdir was an interesting professor at the college, an older Nordic mage who's been around for so long, fellow novices joke he was around since the creation of the college- and Urvel could believe that.

"Welcome, welcome! We're just about to begin today's lesson!" Tolfdir smiled as Urvel and four others stood around him. Two Khajiits, a Dunmer and a Nord. If Urvel could remember correctly, the two Khajiits were introduced as J'zargo and S'bucca, the former being young and hotheaded, and the latter looking almost like someone's 100 year old grandmother. The fellow Dunmer was Brelyna, any last names managing to slip from Urvel's mind, unfortunately. Then the Nord, Onmund. A curious sight, but not the weirdest or unexpected when they had briefly met.

"Now, please, stay and listen. Today, we'll be talking about wards, as well as safety in dealing with magic."

Urvel crossed his arms, ending up staring blankly as he absorbed the words.

"Magic, just like any dagger or axe wielded by a warrior, can protect someone, or a quick sure way to vaporize someone." He spoke like he had personal experiences with that, and Urvel wasn't gonna think too hard about what he might of seen over the years working here. It would'v been a lot, he guessed.

Urvel titled his head, ears twitching in the direction he heard shuffling besides him. Urvel was more then content to just listen and observe, however his classmates were a little more shifty, wanting to move. Urvel may not be the best at reading the room or people, but it was obvious his fellow apprentices were itching to learn more _practical_ magics.

And by that they thought destruction or conjuration.

"We already know this, professor. We had to fight to get here, after all!" The Dunmer piped up, Urvel raising an eyebrow as she didn't even put her hand up first. He glanced through the corner of his eyes and saw Vancano shrugging, going back to writing. Vancano then held up a piece of paper which he had written ' _Impatient, much?_ ' on and Urvel had to bite a chuckle down.

"I have no doubt you are all skilled, as you gotten here on your own- but I cannot allow someone to get hurt from dangerous meddling in ruins alone." Tolfdir crossed his arms, Urvel twitching as he had almost flash backs to bloody _Bleak Falls Barrow_. He watched the striped Khajiit, J'zargo, argue with fire in his eyes, and Urvel can easily picture that khajiit getting into trouble, or rivalries. He certainly thought so as when he learned Urvel was aiming to control his destruction magic further, as he made it a competition to see who could master fire spells first.

"Now to begin, before we utterly ruin the surprise for later, let's begin with wards, a mage's shield." Tolfdir glanced around the room for a moment, before gesturing to Urvel.

"My boy, you'v been quiet during this lecture. Would you mind helping me demonstrate wards? Better question actually-" Tolfdir laughed as he realized. "Do you know wards, firstly?"

Urvel nodded, having learned the basics from a scroll Vancano gave him a few days ago. He summoned it in his hands, and Tolfdir nodded.

"Excellent! Please, go stand over there, if you would."

Urvel stepped his way onto the circle with the college's weird eye-symbol on it, and Tolfdir stood across from him a few feet away.

"Now, cast the spell, and block my attacks."

Urvel squinted, taking a deep breath and remembering what Vancano once said about wards.

_"Restoration is usually a healing branch of magic, ruled by emotion just like Destruction. However, it has a logical aspect to it, if emotions don't easily click with you. Wards are shields, your energy put forth to protect you from harms way. It is strong, and light. It can be warm, or cold."_

Blue light emitted from Urvel's hands, and he could only barely feel the heat from fireballs being throw his way.

"Well done!" Tolfdir let the flame spell die out in his hands, and Urvel done the same. "Now, I want everyone to keep practicing with wards this evening, then later I will have an announcement. And trust me, you will want to hear it."

Students began to pair up, taking turns holding a ward up or blasting with simple attacks for them to block. Urvel stood for a moment, wondering if he could go ask Tolfdir for more advice on wards and maybe alteration, before Vancano stepped up with a smile.

"Hey, you did good there. And also with the wards." He chuckled, Urvel rolling his eyes.

"Ha. But really, do mages usually get... flighty, like that?" Urvel of course meant the restlessness of his fellow apprentices.

Vancano nodded right away.

"Oh yeah, I mean high contents of magicka flowing in you can make you kind of restless if its not properly exercised."

Urvel didn't respond, nodding with that bit of information. Huh, so magicka was almost like stamina then, in terms of being energy? Interesting... made sense, Urvel did remember when he was very young hardly being able to sit still. And randomly setting his foster father's eyebrows on fire from just being in the same room on _one of Those days_.

The two elves stepped a little ways away from the apprentices, Urvel putting his ward back up as Vancano threw much weaker versions of his usual firebolts towards the Dunmer. It was somehow both more and less nerve wracking at the same time, with it being Vancano. More-so because Vancano was a tank with fire spells, and less-so because Vancano had a stupid amount of control over his magicka.

And Vancano just had that conflicting aura about him that you just can't quite place.

He's a weird elf, but then again, Urvel wasn't exactly ' _normal_ ' either. As a few people in Bruma said out loud, thinking Urvel couldn't hear them a mile away.

_Really, there was nothing wrong with disliking people on on the spot or finding your neighbor's kid annoying. Urvel didn't want to play with kids who contently screamed or wept when they were playing a game and naturally got hurt by being careless or stupid. And only getting a scrape on their knee, nonetheless._

_He told them not to touch his hair, and they got what was coming to them. Off they went and cried wolf to their parents._

_Nobody really liked the Dunmer boy who was adopted and couldn't apparently feel._

"Urvel?" Vancano called out, making his ears twitch upwards as he glanced back up. He didn't realized he spaced out that much, hands clenching, the ward dissipating as his mind wandered without him realizing.

"... I'm fine, just spaced out." He shook his head, summing the spell once more.

"Hey, maybe we should take a minute." Vancano offered, letting his arms fall limply at his sides as Urvel squinted a bit.

"I'm _Fine_... sure." Urvel huffed, crossing his arms as Vancano smiled.

"Good, shouldn't be absent minded like that casting spells."

"Sure, _Dad_." Urvel shot back, almost hissing, unable to help a side-wise smirk as Vancano laughed.

"Watch your tone with me, _tiny_."

"I'm not that tiny!" Urvel smacked Vancano's arm, the taller elf the nudging him, almost knocking him down, and it quickly became them hitting and retaliating like kids. Everyone else in the room stared at the scene with a variety of reactions, mostly mild-confusion and amusement.

* * *

"So yes, J'zargo has pulled five sleepless nights to put these scrolls together. And what of you, hmm?"

The brown Khajiit's whiskers twitched as he watched Urvel's continued practice of summing his flame Atronach. It was currently break time, and in a few moments Tolfdir would announce to his class of what this 'special' lesson would consist of. Vancano clearly knew something, but refused to say, cheekily saying it would "ruin the surprise factor".

It really annoyed the apprentice mages, but sparked rumors and inane theorizes as to what was in store. Someone threw out the theory they were going to open a damned oblivion gate, which was quickly shot down. Urvel couldn't even remember who said it originally, as he was taken off guard at the mental image.

"..." Urvel paused, letting his hands drop and the spell dissipating as he seemed deep in thought at J'zargo's question.

"... do you not know?"

Urvel shrugged, not seeing what was surprising about this.

"Well, its not like I ever had an easy time sleeping for more then an hour at a time, so why bother?"

J'zargo squinted at the shorter mage, then smirked. "Oh wait until the tall one hears of this."

"Oh yeah, rat out my personal issues." Urvel rolled his eyes, then squinted back with a devious look. "Although, I wonder what Mirabelle and Colette would think of their students having an all-nighter competition?"

" _Shh shh!_ Quite down-" J'zargo looked over his shoulder, hissing at Urvel as the latter could only chuckle lowly. "Fine, fine, you have a point."

"Of course I do." Urvel huffed, thinking about trying to re-summon his Atronach one last time for good measure, before he heard Tolfdir start to speak up louder, prompting students to start gathering around and ceasing spells, for a moment of quiet.

"Please, everyone stand and listen, we have an important announcement!" Vancano was standing idly by, watching with vague amusement as the students were all getting restless to hear what this surprise was being hyped up to be.

"Recently we had some staff and associates investigate further out in the fields and found something truly remarkable. Outside of Winterhold an ancient ruin, and we have decided it is an excellent learning opportunity to examine and study what lays inside."

To say this did manage to catch the rapid attention of many students was an understatement, as their eyes glimmered at the idea of exploring this ruin. Ancient artifacts and runes, and maybe even treasure that was long buried for thousands of years. Urvel clenched his hands, nails digging into his palms as he imagined what laid beneath ice.

"psst-" He leaned closer to J'zargo. "Gold competition, loser who collected the least amount pays for lunch."

"You're on." The Khajiit grinned, shaking Urvel's hand. "May the best spelunker win."

* * *

The trip to Saarthal was saved for early in the morning tomorrow, so students were told to prepare and sleep earlier then usual (Tolfdir giving the class a pointed look, like he knew exactly about the all-nighter competition) so Urvel went to his quarters as he suggested. There, he started clearing out his traveling bag, of anything taking up unnecessary space. Mostly the treasure he had gathered over the bandit raids he and Vancano went on, like circlets, jewels and soul gems.

He should really sell these, now that he thought about it, admiring the beautiful blue greater gem. It was empty, but could catch a very nice price. It was a little weird, that Vancano just let him take any and all soul gems they came across. He said he didn't have a use for them, he didn't dabble in that side of conjuration, but that still doesn't make sense. While usefulness was up for grabs, they can get you a bit of spending money at a merchant shop.

Urvel shrugged it off, shaking his head as he knows whenever he feels ready, Vancano would let him know. For now, it was none of his business.

Urvel shoved all his shiny valuables to sell into a random sack, shoving it into the closet and burying it under the old robes he somehow managed to already outgrow. He then got started on sorting his weapons, picking what would be the better option for spelunking. While Urvel was definitely getting better with offensive magic to protect himself, he couldn't rely on that forever, so he needed more physical means. He held up a slightly bloodied elven blade ( _don't ask how he got that_ ) and gripped the handle, taking in the details. He then sneered, and threw it into the sell pile... or 'clean then sell' pile more accurately.

He kept searching the weapons he had gathered over his adventures, and then paused. A bronze-ish colored dagger sat in the pile, free of rust although still having drops of blood from Urvel ripping it from a dead bandit's clutched hand.

_"What is this?" Urvel had asked Vancano, holding the strangely colored dagger to the Altmer._

_"A knife?" Vancano chuckled, and Urvel squinted._

_"The metal, dumbass."_

_"Pff, its Dwemer. Why, never seen that stuff before?"_

_Urvel shook his head, and gripped the dagger's handle, taking in the odd colorization of the blade. "Nope, but it looks cool."_

_"That it does."_

Urvel shook his head and stood up, grabbing a spare cloth from the basin nearby. He rubbed the damped cloth over the dagger, watching as a bit of dirt and blood rub off and reveal a fairly shiny glow to the knife. Urvel observed the simple and symmetrical designs on the handle, creeping up to the blade. He nodded, and laid the dagger into the small pile he was going to take with him to Saarthal. He only recently started learning more about the strange wonders of the Dwemer, and thankfully Vancano seemed to know a thing or two about their odd constructs. He was weird like that, knowing obscure details about the most random aspects of history.

"Maybe I should ask him about that later..."

He huffed, starting to put away what he didn't need and slid the dagger into its sheath, safely secured around his belt. Standing up and cracking his neck, he looked out the window. The sky was going pink, reflecting on the ice and snow as the sun was being chased below the horizon. Urvel leaned closer to the window, breath starting to fog the glass up as he squinted, looking into the distance. Azura's statue stood tall and proud, holding up the moon-and-star.

He shook his head, flopping onto his bed and pulling out a journal from underneath his pillow.

" _4E 201, 10th of Sun's Dusk_

_Its late now, and the sight of that statue still fills me with unease. I can't easily describe it, but it feels like- my organs are tied into knots. Is this fear? It doesn't feel anything like the- Helgan event- that image of blazing red eyes still burns me some days."_

Urvel looked up as the door opened, nodding at Vancano as he slumped into a nearby chair. The Altmer looked tired, brows furrowed as he reached into his travel bag- ah.

"Lemme guess; Ancano?"

"Yes, and don't worry, just a swig." Vancano reassured as he grabbed a bottle of mead.

"Sure, Van." Urvel rolled his eyes as he went back to writing.

"That damn agent has a stick up his ass." Vancano grumbled, true to his word and only took one drink from the bottle before re-corking it. Gently laying it back into his bag, he cracked his neck and looked to the window.

"Say, I gotta ask..."

Urvel didn't stop writing, the gentle scratching of charcoal against paper filling the air as he replied with a bored hum.

"When's your birthday? I realize I never asked, or it was never brought up."

Urvel paused, and shrugged. "Its in Evening star."

"Day?"

Urvel let his hand fall from writing, letting the journal lay in his lap as he glanced to the Altmer. "The 5th, and why do you need to know?" Urvel didn't really intend for that to sound as snappy as it did, but too late now.

"Ey, I just wanna know when I'm suppose to get you a gift for your birthday." Vancano put his hands up in defense, stretching his legs out with a yawn while that statement gave Urvel pause.

Was he really going to mention he forgotten gifts on people's birthday was a thing?

"And I mean, it's almost end of the year, wanted to ask before then."

Deciding that's a can of worms he won't reveal ( _for now_ ) Urvel shook his head.

"Alright, fair enough..."

The two went into a comfortable if awkward silence, mostly on the Dunmer's part.

* * *

Urvel had awoken not long after Vancano did, as he was always a light sleeper and easily disturbed. Especially with dreams always shocking him awake, more frequently lately, he realized as he was writing a quick entry in his journal before he started packing any last minute supplies.

"So, how common are the dreams?" Vancano asked as the two left the college walls, deciding to arrive a little earlier then everyone else, only an hour or so after dawn.

"Honestly? I'v had them for so long, I haven't payed attention to it anymore." He shrugged, pocketing his journal into his robes. "Although they'v gotten more... vivid since arriving here. I can actually remember a thing or two now."

"Well, anything you feel like sharing? Dreams are fickle things, y'know." Vancano commented idly, snow crunching beneath his leather boots. Urvel didn't answer for a bit, then looked up at the Altmer.

"I saw... Morrowind. Mainland, which is strange..." He trailed off for a moment to recall details.

"I never been there, yet it was so detailed I couldn't just shove it off as nothing. And- the people in there, they called it something else... uh, gods what was it." Urvel rapped his brain for the name, before Vancano piped up.

"Oh, Resdayn?"

"Are you just a history book that got turned into an elf?"

Vancano laughed a bit.

"No, and really my knowledge about Morrowind is limited, I just learned facts from an old friend." Vancano then paused. "And I'm afraid to say what you just said isn't the weirdest thing I experienced."

"Uh-huh, alright. One fucked up life you lead, then?" Urvel blinked at the notion a book being animated was the least weirdest thing Vancano seem, and frankly didn't want to know more at the moment. Thankfully it seemed Vancano wasn't going to go into a long ramble about past adventures, since Urvel wasn't sure how long he could stand that at the moment, and they just carried on with their day.

It wasn't long before they reached the ruin known as Saarthal, crumbling from the inside out and worn down from the weather over centuries. They were the first ones there, so they set up a tent to ward off the cold as they waited.

"So" Urvel started as he was munching on old bread. "You helped out with this trip?"

Vancano nodded, taking a sip of mead, coughing as it burned his throat.

"Yeah, went scouting inside for any threats. Dragur, traps, the like."

"God, those things are deadly." Urvel could shiver even thinking about the barrow he dove into months ago for a stupid stone slab.

"Been in one before?" Vancano asked, putting away the bottle and raising an eyebrow as Urvel stiffly nodded.

"Yeah, I did a favor for Whiterun's court wizard- it was a... slab of sorts. Some ancient language written on it." Not to mention a wall with words that whispered to him in a foreign tongue and he frankly didn't want to think about anymore.

"I don't wanna talk much more about it." Urvel huffed, ears twitching downwards to reflect his souring mood.

"Alright, I get it." Vancano thankfully let it go, turning to peak outside of the small shelter. "Ey, y'know if you don't want to go inside, Tolfdir would gladly give you a different assignment or something to make up for this."

Urvel shook his head. "No, its fine- just no more Bleak Falls Barrow for me." His fingers twitched, and he fiddled with a random emerald he found in a box outside of the ruin door, running his thumb over its smooth surface.

"Just wanted to let you know." Vancano stood up as he left the tent. "C'mon, I can see the rest of the class at the stairs."

With a nod, Urvel stood up, growling as once more the cold crept into his clothes and chilling his blood. Tolfdir immediately took notice of them, smile visible beyond his white beard.

"Ah, there you two are! I was wondering if you had already taken off."

"Oh y'know, had nothing else to do." Vancano shrugged as they all started nearing the black door of the entrance.

"Isn't this exciting?" The Dunmer, Brelyna, grinned as she walked up to match Urvel's pace. He could only nod, feeling his skin prickle at such close proximity. But he ignored it for now as Tolfdir unlocked the door, turning to look at the class once more.

"Now, this place should be safe, but stay cautious. Who knows what we may find in here." He spoke and one by one, everyone passed the door and descended downwards.

"I should feel excited about finally doing something interesting, but I don't know how I feel about raiding a tomb..." Onmund had commented while looking around, looking visibly uncomfortable about the idea of scavenging around in his people's graves.

"Oh hush Nord" J'zargo scoffed. "Stop being a baby about this, they aren't related to _you_ specifically."

"Hey, I can at least see where he's coming from." Brelyna squinted at the Khajiit, who only shrugged.

"Because Dunmer ancestors would raise from slumber to beat us up."

"Tck" Brelyna scoffed, turning away and started going down a spiraling staircase, leaving them behind.

"Alright, more gold for this one then."

"Not unless I find it first." Urvel whispered, J'zargo seeming to be the only one who heard him as he grinned.

"You're on."

Urvel started inching towards a nearby urn, fingers already itching to get his hands on ancient gold pieces and jewelry.

"Now as some of you may know, Saarthal was one of the earliest Nord settlements in Skyrim. It was also the largest" Tolfdir's voice echoed off the chamber walls, carrying the sound into each of the student's ears. "Sacked by the elves in the infamous 'Night of Tears', not much is known about what happened to Saarthal."

Gold coins clinked together in Urvel's palm as he happily scooped them up, careful not to get any dust underneath his fingernails.

"This is an exciting opportunity for us. To be able to study such an old civilization, and the magics they used."

Urvel ghosted back to the group, easily blending in like he hadn't wandered off to collect goodies.

"Now, before we begin, does anyone have any questions?"

Brelyna rose her hand, and when prompted asked; "What are we looking for, exactly?"

"Anything, anything at all that could be proven valuable information about this ruin. Art, weapons, scrolls. I would want you all to keep an eye out. We'll drag anything interesting to the college to be studied."

Everyone seemed content with this knowledge, Urvel glancing around.

"As well- has anyone here been through a ruin such as this before?" This is when Vancano nudged Urvel a bit, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. Did Urvel want to confirm he had prior experience in this?

"Uhm-" Urvel rose a hand. "I'v been to one, a few months ago..." He coughed a bit.

"Ah, good! Urvel, could you go ahead and assist Arniel Gane? He's further down in the ruins, just beyond that doorway."

"Yeah, sure, I'll go do that." With a stiff nod, Urvel made hast through the hallway to be rid of the somewhat large group of people. He glanced around the corner and saw a man leaning against a table, seeming to go over a large stack of parchment. This must be that Arniel then.

"Gods what a mess..." He growled as Urvel crept closer.

"Excuse me?"

The man jumped, the most manliest of yells escaping him as he turned to look at the young dunmer. " _BY SHEOGORATH'S BEARD_ \- please do not sneak like that!" Arniel choked back a wheezing cough, and Urvel bit back a grin.

"Ah, I'm sorry- but uh, I was sent to help you. By Tolfdir."

"He what? Oh- yeah, right. You're one of the newer apprentices, right... um." He stumbled over his words a bit, and Urvel couldn't quite tell if it was because of his previous scare, or he was just like that.

"Just don't make a mess of my work! You can go look through the northern chamber. Find anything that looks enchanted, doesn't matter the usefulness of it."

He nodded, and now with a more solid objective, turned to head north up the hallway.

"A-and be careful! We don't want to break anything!"

"Yeah, yeah, got it." Urvel replied back down the hall, wincing as it echoed and bounced back into his ears. Ugh, yelling inside a ruin doesn't feel right.

Urvel entered the next room and was immediately drawn to the dusty shelf. He started going into a mode of which everything around him became blurry, and only shiny things mattered in the end. He picked up a grand soul gem, watching as it glimmered in the light before stuffing it into his bag. His attention was then gained by a small, gold ring on the ground. He picked it up and examined it, holding it to the light and smiling to himself when it had a red shine to it. Some enchantment for health, then.

He slipped it onto a finger that fit and carried on, eyes keen on finding more artifacts hidden in dust and shadows. By the time he had gathered about 3 rings, seeming a matching set, did he stumble across another strange room. Inside was a gate, no obvious lever and an oddly shaped amulet on the wall. He tilted his head, ears twitching as he heard voices from behind him. Tolfdir was asking Arniel for a status report regarding the ruin, Vancano's voice heard not long after. Urvel swore he heard some teasing remarks as he walked closer to the amulet.

Well he wanted to say he's surprised as the doorway he came through was suddenly blocked off and trapped him. But really he's just not.

" _Fuck_ -"

"What happened?" Vancano's voice was heard as he walked over to the gate. "Oh..."

"Yeah ' _oh_ '."

This was gonna be an interesting field trip.


	5. Beneath Saarthal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We continue Urvel and Vancano's adventure into Saarthal, where Vancano lets his Pyromania out.

"Soo- how's jail going for you?" Vancano barely tried to contain a smirk at the Dunmer, who held an expression similar to a soaked cat.

"Shut your damn trap, beanpole." Urvel growled, gripping the iron bars to the point his knuckles turned a lighter purple, nails digging into his palms, risking to draw blood. How the hell was he suppose to know a necklace can be trapped? Who designed this? Who built this, and who approved of it?

"I'm just saying, this is what happens when you let the dragon hoarding instinct go unchecked-" A growl from younger elf cut Vancano off, making him shake his head with a sigh.

"What's going on over here? Is everything alright?" Tolfdir asked with concern, walking over to the chaotic duo and quirked an eyebrow at the situation Urvel found himself in.

"Kid grabbed something and set off the gate."

"I said _SHUT_ , string bean." He hissed, glaring daggers through squinted, red eyes. He let go of the iron bars, obviously far from being strong enough to think about bending them. Where was a warrior orc when you need them, ready to tank an entire dungeon as someone rides out the storm working as support.

Tolfdir could only shake his head at the scene, tapping his foot a bit in thought. "Well now. What was it you grabbed?"

Urvel held up the old, glowing amulet in front of them with a look of disdain. They observed the odd trinket, taking in the ancient runes carved into the dusty gold pedant. It was then they started to notice a spike of energy, a telltale sign of an enchantment placed upon it. What kind, however, was up for debate.

"Hmm, fascinating. Maybe try putting it on, see if it does anything?"

Urvel frowned, looking at the old necklace before sighing. "Fine..." He huffed, slipping the old twine around his neck and laying it over his shoulders. He fidgeted, as the dusty artifact felt scratchy on him, even with his layered robes protecting him. He then felt an odd pull, aware of something in the air. He turned around and saw an energy beam, connecting him and the wall from where he grabbed the amulet.

"You and the wall..." Tolfdir mumbled, before speaking up louder. "Try casting a spell on it."

Urvel complied, summoning a flame into his palm and with a surprising amount of force, blast the wall into bits. With far too much ease, he thought to himself as he heard the gate behind him slide open, bars disappearing into the ground.

"Damn..." Vancano mumbled under his breath as he stepped up beside Urvel. The wall was a covering for a giant tunnel, hidden away for centuries. Was it to hide something of value from bandits or grave robbers?

"Why in the world was this sealed off?" Tolfdir's voice echoed behind them, eyes wide with curiosity. "Did they want to keep people out?"

_Or to keep something in_ , Urvel thought as he peaked down the tunnel, taking a step inside. It was long and winding, reminding him of the Serpent's Trail near the city of Bruma. It was an ill advised trip which he barely remembers much else about... what is it about people bringing others to dangerous ruins? An adventures fun pass time?

Shaking his head, he took careful steps into the tunnel, listening closely for any sign of danger, be it a potential cave in, monster- god they didn't have ogres in Skyrim, did they? No, how would something that big get in here...

Urvel walked into what seemed like a dead end. It was just one fairly small room, three sarcophagi lining the walls, of which immediately set Urvel on guard. Vancano and Tolfdir were right behind him, staring at subtle awe and confusion.

"Doesn't look like much to warrant a secret passage..." Urvel tilted his head, before the air changed. It went deathly silent, the world dipping into a blue hue as his eyes could only be drawn to the center of the room. His blood chilled as he heard a ghostly voice call out to him.

"Hold, mages, and listen well..."

The figure that appeared in front of him was tall, possibly an Altmer. He was clad in heavy robes that concealed all but the bottom half of his face. Urvel glanced out of the corner of his eyes, eyebrows raising in shock as he saw everything, from particles in the air to Tolfdir frozen in time, looking like he was just about to comment on something, eyes mid-blinking. Everything was paused... expect for Vancano. His companion was aware of this change, but never drew his eyes away from the stranger in front of them.

"Know that you have both set off a chain of motions that cannot be stopped." The specter spoke with a grim and stern tone, lifting his chin up to reveal calculated, squinting eyes. "Judgement has not been passed, as you had no way of knowing what lies ahead."

_Judgement? What chain of motion?_ Urvel's hands clenched as he slowly let regret boil in his stomach.

"Judgement will be passed on your actions to come, and how you deal with the dangers ahead of you."

There was a trickle of red down his palm, the faint sound of a nail breaking loud like a fireball to an oil slick.

"This warning was passed to you because the Psijic Order believes in you. In you both."

Urvel's ears twitched when he heard a quick inhale from Vancano, the elf suddenly standing up straighter then usual, his height made even more obvious and grand.

"You two mages- you both have potential to prevent disaster. Take great care, and know the Order is watching."

And like it was a mere fever dream, Urvel blinked his eyes and everything felt normal. Fire crackling, the cave shifting and Vancano's deep inhales and exhales. Tolfdir shook his head, rubbing his eyes as he looked to the two elves in the room.

"I... I swear I felt something rather strange just then..." The professor took notice of the shell-shocked expressions they wore, like they had just seen a ghost. "What just happened?"

Urvel rubbed his temples, glancing over to Vancano as the tallest of the bunch stared into space for a moment, with an unknowable expression and lost eyes. He elbowed him, jolting Vancano out of his moment and only earned an awkward shrug.

Urvel squinted his eyes, before explaining the vision.

"There was some kind of... ghost, or specter just now." Urvel mumbled, racking his brain as to what that even was. It couldn't be a spirit, right? This is a Nord ruin, sure ghosts could be wandering... but that was an Altmer. A very alive on at that. "It spoke to us."

"Huh, I'm afraid I didn't see anything." Tolfdir's statement took Urvel aback, making him wonder why just he and Van would see and be spoken too?

"What did this apparition tell you?"

"It said something about danger ahead and the... Psijic Order?" Urvel's fairly certain he butchered the pronunciation, if Vancano's wince and bitten back chuckle was any indication. Toldfir's eyes widened a bit at the mention of this certain order.

"The Psijic Order? Are you certain?"

Urvel nodded, but tilted his head. "Yes, but why ask?"

"Well, that just makes this all even more strange." He scratched his beard a bit, squinting an eye as he thought over this information, and Urvel was still confused by this. "And danger ahead? Why, that doesn't make much sense at all. This ruin would be dangerous just like any other..." Tolfdir slowly went into a brainstorming episode, tapping his foot a bit against the stone floor as he began to pace.

"The Psijics have no connection to this ruin at all, and for a matter of fact nobody has seen any of their order for decades." He rambled, mostly to himself as Urvel looked to Vancano. The altmer looked like he was trying to play things cool, but Urvel could see him standing straighter then usual and his hand going in circles while his arms laid limp at his sides.

"Van, do you know what these Psijics are?"

Vancano uncharacteristically jumped, chuckling a bit to cover it up. "Ahah- uh... kinda. Yes."

Urvel rose an eyebrow, fairly unimpressed. "And they are...?"

The altmer glanced down, before shaking his head with a sigh.

"They're a group, a super old one. They're known for studying Mysticism, or the _Old Ways_ as they called it." He coughed, almost forcibly as if he realized something. "So, yeah, really old group. Really secluded."

Urvel frowned, sensing something wasn't quite right with Vancano's explanation, like details and large chunks were left out of a book, leaving it incomplete. Urvel sighed, having to accept that answer for now.

"Hmm, I wonder if anything in these coffins would have clues." Tolfdir began, stepping closer to the black sarcophagi to the right.

"Sure, let's crack these puppies up." Vancano was quick to drop the topic of the Psijics, holding up his palms and summoning a fire spell as he crept towards the left.

"Please be careful, Vancano! I know you're more then capable, but remember you're not the only one in this small room-!"

**_BOOOM!_ **

Urvel barely flinched when, only a second after a Dragur knocked their coffin's lid off, did it meet a large, flaming re-death. The room flashed orange and white for a split second, before the other two cracked open at the disturbance in the air. The dunmer growled as he whipped out his dagger, summoning Oakflesh- just in case- charging towards the Dragur in the center of the room.

"Wow, Van. Wow." Urvel dead panned as he looked at the toasted room, Vancano having the dignity to at least look a bit sheepish. "You would certainly give people an impression on Fire Mages."

"... Fire is great, okay!" Vancano laughed, checking one of the piles of ash that was once a mummified Nord. Ohh Onmund would be horrified at the sight, but not like Urvel exactly cared, as he held a couple of old gold coins in his palm. Tolfdir could only shake his head, turning to the middle coffin in the room.

"Whoaa..." Urvel peaked into the coffin and was met with yet another corridor, opening up into a familiar styled dungeon. Oh gods this was Bleak Falls Barrow all over again, wasn't it? Damn it all he should have joined the Thieves Guild instead of this crap. At least they wouldn't have a beanpole pyromaniac blowing holes into each ruin they walked into. The three walked through the hall, filled with dusty skeletons from who knew how long ago, scattered on the ground in pieces. Urvel eyed them wearily as they stepped up to an iron gate, a lever right beside it.

"Be prepared for anything." Tolfdir stated, readying his spells as Urvel yanked the lever down, the gate coming down with a loud clang. They enter the fairly large chamber room, Urvel taking a lead as he walked over to the middle of the strange bridge in the center of the room. He glanced around, letting a flame dance on his palm as he acknowledged the many coffins lining the wall.

The lids were thrown off, and quickly the group began picking off the risen undead, one by one. Vancano took the lead, taking the blunt of the damage as Urvel and Tolfdir provided as much spell damage from a distance, as they were nowhere near as physically fit as Van to take hits like that.

"Well I never seen anything like this before!" Tolfdir explained once they had finished off the last Dragur, spreading his arms out wide as he observed the room. "I never seen a ruin quite like this! Why, just look at all these coffins!"

Urvel rose an eyebrow, sheathing his dagger away for a minute as Tolfdir rambles on.

"So its like a dozen, its not that manyy..." Urvel risked glancing up, almost loosing his balance as he gazed upon rows and rows of sarcophagi, leading all the way up into a dark nothingness. Looking down confirmed that, yes, there were even more below, descending into great depths that he really wished he didn't know about. "... holy shit."

Tolfdir ignored the use of such language, instead stating that the two could go ahead forward as he stayed to study the room for a moment. Urvel considered firing back a comment about separating, but held his tongue for the time being.

"So he's really gonna leave us to our own devices, huh?" Urvel huffed as they entered through the black and heavy door, peeking around a corner to catch sight of any undead already up and walking.

"Hey, don't be like that, it'll be fine. Undead are weak to fire spells, and we're handy at those." Vancano got a glint in his eyes. "As well, perfect opportunity to show you more fire spells, right?"

Urvel glanced back over to the pyromanic elf with a pointed look.

"Alright, sure."

* * *

"-okay, now imagine it as a straight line of sheer force, assert your anger and rage into one, condensed barrage." Vancano explained, watching with pride as Urvel scorched the third dragur to come at them, leaving it as nothing but a pile of smoldering ash. "Good job! I said you'd be able to figure it out."

Urvel grinned, breathing a bit heavily as while that spell is a lot of fun to use, it was certainly draining of his magicka pool. He sipped on a restore potion as they wandered through the halls of dead, chatting lowly as to not attract too much attention to themselves. It was so much better to traverse these ruins with someone else, someone you could rely on and trust. It also helps to have them basically tank for you, so Urvel gladly offers Vancano first chance of any loot they find in chests or urns, but the Altmer always declines.

"How else do you get gold?" Urvel inquires, making Vancano huff a laugh as they entered a room, with strange pillars in them. Thankfully Urvel remembered them from the Barrow as puzzles, and got to trying to set them up.

"Wow, what a question about grave robbing. But it just doesn't feel too right, looting the bodies of their riches." He replied simply, stretching his arms above his head.

"But you said you been in ruins before, killing dragur. And don't forget those bandit camps." Urvel stated pointedly, squinting at the elf as he tried to figure out this strange mer's morality.

"Mostly to kill the undead, really. And bandits just cause issues for everyone, usually." He shrugged, eyes glinting bright yellow in the torch light.

"Kill them? Why?" Urvel couldn't really understand why one would go diving into dangerous ruins, just to slaughter undead for near no money in return. "Are you a Meridia follower or something?"

Vancano laughed a bit, shaking his head.

"No, but not the first time I'v been called that. But no, its usually to take out any Necromancers, or eliminating any 'supplies' they could gather easily." He grimaced at the term 'supplies', mouth twitching like he had a sour taste in his mouth at the thought.

"Really hate necromancers, huh?" Urvel spun the last pillar into place, chuckling at seeing the carved snake, running a finger over the grooves of the design.

"Oh you have no idea..." Vancano growled, taking Urvel back for a moment as his eyes went dark, before forcing himself back to his prior mood. "But whatever."

He stalked ahead, and Urvel followed silently as he made a mental list of what never to mention to Vancano again. Necromancy.

* * *

By the next room, Vancano had a different aura about him, and Urvel couldn't help but feeling a bit guilty at possibly bringing up old memories. Their ears twitched at the sound of rasped breathing, that they could identify as a dragur. Before Urvel could register it, make a game plan, Vancano had unsheathed a sword from his back, bolting up the creaky wooden stairs with a quite growl.

Urvel could only hear the clash of blades and cursing in Aldmeri by the time he rushed up the stairs. He cursed Van's long legs, and only arrived just in time to see Vancano slice the dragur's head clean off, blade falling and tumbling off the edge. Vancano barely seemed winded as he returned his sword, cracking his neck a bit.

"... You. Are terrifying." Urvel simply muttered, going over to a chest to unlock it.

"Ah, sorry about that..." Vancano rubbed the back of his neck, tapping awkward on the hilt of the silver sword.

Urvel didn't reply for a moment, listening intently for the tell-tale click from the lock. He grinned, opening the chest with ease.

"No problem, but warn a guy next time." He said while looking through the dusty chest, humming as he found a few gems and a Nordic style dagger. Not exactly his aesthetic or tastes, but it would fetch a decent price, so he pocketed it. And so, they carried on forward.

* * *

"So... how do we get past this?" Urvel asked, pointing to the very obvious spark rune trap at the entrance to the next room.

_**BOOOM**_!

"Why do I even need to ask with you?" Urvel exasperated, walking through the doorway after it was efficiently cooked by both electricity and fire magic.

"Again- Fire is the best option." Vancano shrugged, stepping into the room and glancing about. "Huh, more puzzles. The ancients sure love their puzzles." He mused, walking over to the pillar with a whale on it. It was painfully simple in retrospect, just a bit tedious to spin the pillars around to get the correct combination.

"Are all ruins like this?" Urvel asked, squinting at the pillars as touching one would activate the others.

"Basically. Nordic, Dwemer, Ayleid- the Nords are easier to manage, in my opinion." Vancano replied easily, spinning one pillar with a bit more flare before groaning as he realized it messed up the other three in each corner of the room. He walked over to the other pillars, grinning as they eventually spun into the correct order like he hit the jackpot.  
  


"Which is hilarious since most of Nords are a pain." Urvel huffed, stepping back hesitantly from a pillar as he took note of all of them, making sure everyone was finally in order.

  
"Nah, they're all insufferable... from what I read." Vancano stated, pulling the lever in the middle.

"Really?" Urvel turned to Vancano. "And you know this, how?"  
  


"Well, you know the Ayleids have enslaved man before the Empire." Vancano stated, chuckling as Urvel shot a glare at him. Just about anyone who stepped inside the Imperial City knew of the Ayleids and the Slave Revolt. Urvel sure heard a lot about it, unsurprisingly, walking by the statues scattered around the city daily.  
  


"I mean- yeah, everyone knew that. Nobody knew what the Dwemer were really like, though." Urvel couldn't say he was especially curious about the Dwemer, mostly due to not hearing much about the race of mer at all while in the Imperial City. All because Dwemer artifacts were illegal, like seriously. Why did the Empire think they owned that crap?  
  


"I remember hearing from an old friend that they were kind of... I dunno, really high and mighty. They didn't like magic, or the concept? Really I don't personally know a lot about them." Vancano could only shrug, shaking his head as they both entered the next room, when he stopped talking all together. Urvel glanced at him with an eyebrow raise, then focused as he heard footsteps drawing near.

"Hold on, I'm coming down!" Tolfdir called out as he finally managed to catch up, catching his breath at the staircase the elven duo paused at.

"Done studying some coffins?" Urvel asked, snorting a laugh as Tolfdir collected himself. Urvel wandered over to a little area to the right, which contained a small alchemy work station, that had a book laying on the table. Curious, he walked over and lifted the dusty tome. It looked fairly new...

"Yes, yes, and I thought it was about time to catch up with you both by now-"

" ** _Oh mARA'S TI-_** "

A yelp and the sound of a loud thump made Tolfdir and Vancano jump, turning to see Urvel kicking a book away with a look of absolute disgust written on his face.

"What's the matter?" Tolfdir asked worriedly, wondering what on earth could disturb the usually stoic ( _or annoyed_ ) Dunmer so badly. Vancano walked over, casting a quick levitation spell and looking at the unholy tome that freaked him out.

"Pfft haha! Seriously? The _Lusty Argonian Maid_?" Vancano laughed, setting the book right back on the table as Urvel frowned deeply at the Altmer. Tolfdir could only shake his head, barely able to contain a small smile. At least it wasn't a cursed book.

"Shut up, that thing is _disgusting_." Urvel seethed, feeling a small flicker of a flame appear in his palms. "Just why is it _here_ of all places?"

"Look even the undead might want a fun night- pfft, oh gods." Vancano couldn't keep back chuckles at Urvel's dismay.

"If you two are done..." Tolfdir kept a straight face now, gesturing to the hallway.

"Yeah, got it chief." Vancano let out one burst of laughs before carrying on, hand ready to grab his sword from the sheath. Urvel huffed, eyeing the book before throwing a not so subtle fire ball toward's the book's direction.

"Man, if you react like this to the Maid, don't read the Sermons of Vivec."

"The what of who?"

"... Yeah Tolfdir I think I have an assignment idea for Urvel. Morrowind."

" _SHUT_ \- I never lived there, cut me some slack!"

Urvel didn't really want to mention that hearing the name 'Vivec' felt familiar. Maybe he did hear of this figure before, but somehow that didn't quite feel right. His mother wasn't exactly well in tuned with... well any history, and living with Nords didn't really give him any wells of knowledge about the home of Dunmer.

* * *

"Whoa..." Vancano looked out from the balcony at the sight of the bright blue orb hovering in the air. It was gigantic, constantly spinning with runes floating on its surface, always changing. "Would you look at that..."

"I never thought we'd find something like this here." Tolfdir commented, just in awe as he stared upon the ancient relic. Urvel wasn't quite as thrilled as the other two, as the energy the orb gave off did not sit well with him. It was power, a sheer force that made his skin prickle. It almost reminded him of a star, wounded and about to destroy everyone in contact. He shifted uncomfortably, clenching his hand, soon taking notice of the chair in the center of the room. In it sat a very tall and armored Dragur, with a horned helmet. The creature began to move, old bones and creaking joints popping as it grabbed its ancient war axe.

"Uhh, guuuyy?!" Urvel called out, summoning a flame spell into his hand and blasting the undead warrior- to no affect, like it was covered in a ward against all magic.

"Its immune to magic, damn it all!" Vancano growled as a fireball he had thrown held no affect either, unsheathing his sword from his back.

"What about shock spells?" Urvel yelled, wincing as the Dragur nearly threw the axe into his shoulder, thankfully blocked by the wooden beam holding up the stairs. Urvel had attempted to stab it, but yielded no affects either as it almost phased through the Dragur, like a specter.

"Maybe- Tolfdir! Urvel! Shock the orb, see if it will drain him!" Vancano yelled, casting Ebonyflesh for extra protection against the undead. "I'll distract it! Come on you rotten fuck-" He growled as he lead the thing away from the two mages, dodging ice spikes.

Urvel hated being in close proximity to this thing, but did what Vancano said, letting purple sparks fly from his finger tips and into the relic. He could feel everything in a mile radius, the raw energy burning his veins and skin like lava was injected into him. His eye was twitching, fingers and magicka pool burning from overuse, burning both ends of the candle, so to speak as he was absolutely drained. His ear picked up the noise of Vancano grunting, wincing at the sound of the axe being swung around in the air. He barely noticed the sudden burst of yellow light behind him, warm and trying to overpower the rich blue of the orb.

He gasped, letting his limbs fall numb as he had no more power to go into shocking the artifact. But it didn't seem to need much else, as when Urvel turned around he saw a bright shining light of a restoration spell. It was rapidly healing any wounds Vancano had taken, and light started to burn away at the Dragur's dried out flesh.

"Vancano! The ward is down!"

Vancano took that as a sign, discarding his sword and letting it clatter on the stone floor. A menacing expression began growing on his face, eyes lighting up as a his hands burst into blinding light. A ring of fire started creeping along the ground, smoke rising as anything remotely flammable like loose linen wraps and books were burned. The room was bathed in an orange light, and Urvel could only watch in abject fear and awe as the flames Vancano conjured twisted and flowed like lava, burning the Dragur. It screamed in old Norse as dried out, mummified skin was rendered to nothing but ash and dust.

No one said anything as the guardian was turned to a pile of bones and smoldering ash, Vancano panting a bit as it might of taken a bit of his magicka to cast that spell. Tolfdir had wandered to the Orb to further examine it, letting the two catch their breath and rest before deciding what to do next. Urvel had taken to sitting on the stone floor, taking a minute to catch his breath. He clutched his head, heart hammering as he heard Vancano step up, slumping down to sit a few feet away.

"You alright?" He asked, coughing a bit from all that yelling prior. And maybe inhaling a bit of ash and smoke in the process. Urvel nodded, glancing to the Altmer and wincing as the adrenaline died down, making him painfully aware of that gods forsaken numb, pulsing like pain in... well, everywhere now. It was once in his legs, near his knees, but everywhere felt sore and exhausted.

"I mean, unless you count burning pain in your arms and legs as 'alright', then yes." He grumbled, shifting uncomfortably as Vancano nodded in sympathy.

"Also- what was _that_."

Vancano tilted his head. "Uh, what specifically?"

"That!" Urvel piped, exasperated as he gestured to what was once the guardian of the strange Orb. "That spell was so awesome and also _terrifying_ , how did you do that?"

Vancano blinked, then rubbed the back of his neck, a bit awkwardly. "I mean- I practiced magic for so long, its just- that. A spell I worked on for years."

Urvel crossed his arms, but gave in, sighing. "mh- sorry. I'm just frazzled after all that." He grumbled, eyeing the ash before taking notice of a glimmer. He sat up a bit, shuffling over to the pile and sifted through until his fingers hooked around twine, connecting to an amulet. It shimmered blue, and looked... not quite right. Like it was a fragment. He hummed, cleaning it with the hem of his robes before pocketing it. Then he saw a piece of paper, which confused him. It should have been one of the first things to burn away.

Picking it up revealed it was singed, but it was still legible, possibly protected by a ward.

"Jyrik, huh..." He mumbled, folding and pocketing the note for later. He then took notice of a tall, very intricately made staff laying on the table, nearby the chair Jyrik once sat at for centuries.

"Why, this is truly unique." Tolfdir was admiring the Orb, and the two elves joined him as they looked upon it. It is beautiful, and terrifying as it hums lowly.  
  


"We know that- what is it?" Urvel asked, tapping the ground with the staff that was, unfortunately, taller then him, making Vancano chuckle lowly. Urvel elbowed the Altmer as Tolfdir turned to them.  
  


"I have no idea! It is amazing, absolutely incredible- oh, the Arch-Mage needs to be informed of this discovery!"  
  


Urvel had forgotten this was an entire _College field trip_ , and that there was an Arch-Mage. Right.

  
"Could you two please get word of this to Savos? He needs to see this for himself."  
  


Urvel turned to Vancano, leaning more onto the staff. "Think we can just head out of here? Feels like after all this my limbs are noodles and about to fall off."  
  


Vancano snorted a laugh, but agreed.  
  


"We'll get word to him, I'm guessing you're gonna stay behind to attend to it?"  
  


"Yes, I don't dare leave it alone. Thank you."

  
Urvel and Vancano began walking to the black door behind the Orb, heaving it open and walking through. It was definitely more of a rough, man made cave then the room prior, which gave them hope there was an entrance to outside. However, as Vancano took notice of a chest, heaving the lid open and thankful it wasn't locked, Urvel was distracted by the wall. The goddamn wall, with the weird scratching that made somewhat sense, _damn it_.

Urvel tried not to look at the whispering wall, but slowly felt drawn like a moth to a flame. He inched closer, laying a hand on the stone wall as the words around him went hazy, almost stabbing his brain with their meanings.

_'Here lies the body of Iglif Ice-Blood who met his end not in glorious combat, but at the cruel touch of the withering sickness'_

_Ice, **Liz  
  
**_

"Hm? You say something?" Vancano asked, looking up from the chest and jingling a coin purse. Urvel shook his head, coughing a bit as he walked towards the entrance.

  
"Oh, nothing- lets just get back to the College." He spoke stiffly, walking out of the room and Vancano could only blink in surprise before he took off after him. Vancano could only guess this place brought back memories of Bleak Falls Barrow, then.

* * *

Urvel seemed to be doing better, once they were further away from the Orb and found the main chamber they first arrived in. Some of the students had remained, awaiting any news from their teacher and guide most likely. Brelyna was biting at her fingernails, sitting by J'zargo who at least looked mildly bored and concerned as to what was taking so long. They jumped as they heard a gate from above clanging open, watching as Urvel and Vancano jumped down onto the wooden walkway.

"What happened down there?" Brelyna asked, sitting up as J'zargo's ears perked up in interest.  
  


"Something big, we have to find the Arch-Mage." Urvel replied bluntly, already making way to the door, noting the look J'zargo gave the tall staff. "Oh, and J'zargo?"  
  


"Yes?" J'zargo's ears then went flat, as he realized what this meant if they mentioned having to find the Arch-Mage now.  
  


"I win." He tapped the gem atop the staff against the wall, sparks flying a tiny bit as he smirked. He pushed the heavy door opened and the two vanished into the snow, Urvel audibly cursing a moment later.  
  


J'zargo sighed, and Brelyna patted him on the back in pity.


	6. Assess & Assign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Urvel returns from Saarthal to the college to have some down time with companions before getting back to work.
> 
> Also Ancano is a bitch.

"Vancano."

"Yes?"

"How fast can you kill a man."

Vancano halted in his step, eyebrows raising into his hairline as he looked to Urvel. The boy was... a bit worse for wear. The dark rings that usually clung to under his eyes were more prominent, definitely going to stay like that given his sleeping habits. Hair tangled, windswept and with every step he took he stretched his leg out like his joints desperately needed to pop and crack.

"Pardon me?"

"Absolutely end me, I don't want to deal with this." Urvel groaned, uncomfortably suffering with that damnable numb pain. They had walked uphill for only a few minutes, mostly in quiet before Urvel began to grumble about the ache in his knees and shins. Apparently it was even beginning to form in his back, creeping up his spine to his arms.

"Urvel- I'm not going to burn you to death." Vancano stated simply, looking at the Dunmer exasperated as he just pouted. "Also Mirabella would get on my ass about that." So far there had been no deaths in the past decade, and the college would really like to keep it that way. Especially with that damnable agent stalking everyone who even breathes in the establishment.

"Well then what's the point?" Urvel rolled his eyes, stretching his leg out once again as he took a step forward through the snow, frowning as snow melted and soaked through the hem of his robes. If Vancano wasn't about to have mercy on him, why shouldn't he just feed himself to the ice wolves? He could see in the distance the light grey, feral cousin of the hounds he sees wandering around. Huh, weird, he didn't think he could see them from this height-

"What the shit" Urvel gasped a bit as his feet were hovering up and out of the snow, his hair whipping back as he glanced to Vancano. His hand was glowing a bright teal color, a grin on his face as he continued walking, Urvel now floating close behind.

"Don't tell anyone, the Empire doesn't appreciate levitation anymore, y'know?" He chuckled, his long legs easily carrying him through the high snow that piled up after many hours underneath Saarthal. Urvel crossed his arms, but didn't say anything in reply as he was content enough floating around.

"Why would they just up and ban this spell, it's so handy." Urvel quirked an eyebrow, watching as Vancano huff in slight frustration and agreement.

"I know, its so dumb. The Levitation Act had no reason to be made, yet here we are. You'd think they ban any other spell, like y'know... Invisibility? Lock manipulation? They at least did so with Necromancy." Vancano deadpanned, shaking his head in disappointment like he recalled something. Possibly even the passing of the Act, since he had to have lived before it was set into motion. At least that's Urvel's leading theory.

"So you haven't used levitation much since then?"

"Oh no" Vancano laughed heartily. "I used it all the time, the Arch-Mage was more than glad to keep that secret while I was within the Guild walls." His eyes wandered at the mention of the Mages Guild, a fond look growing on his face as he let old memories resurface. His pace slowed, and Urvel tilted his head as he watched Van's expression change and shift. His smile was still present, but smaller and faint. Eyes remained unfocused, and while Urvel wanted him to have his moments in peace, they couldn't afford to lose their track of mind outdoors.

"Tamriel to Vancano, are you there?"

Vancano jolted a bit, blinking in surprise as he realized he spaced out. "Oh, sorry about that, didn't mean to get lost in thought."

Urvel waved it off, instead going to point at the edge of the town coming into view over the hill.

"Its fine, but might wanna let me down. Even though I'm damn sure the Jarl supports Ulfric, any 'weird' magic might earn the ire of the local Nords." Urvel rolled his eyes at this fact, still uncertain why Nords were so stereotypically huffy about magic. Was it because most of the mer races had a natural affinity for it? Did they think it was cheating or something?

He'll probably never truly know the ' _Why_ ', and he doubts that every Nord would have the same opinion for the same reasons. The world is confusing like that, he supposed.

Vancano put Urvel back onto the ground and they continued up the path, the hill steep as they entered through the crumbling entry way that was probably a bit more grand a decade or two ago. They quickly turned tail from the village and went up the stairs to the College, not wanting to deal with any irritable locals at the moment. With a new burst of energy they carried themselves across the bridge, the image of the strange orb burned into their eyes.

"I have a bad feeling about that artifact." Urvel muttered, growling as he tugged his scarf up aggressively once more, summoning a flame into his palm to keep them warm. Vancano silently agreed, shaking his head with a sigh.

"Yeah, the energy surge from that thing is insane."

"And tempting?" Urvel inquired, and Vancano nodded quietly. It was tempting, hairs on the back of his neck prickling at the memory.

"Guess we shouldn't waste anymore time." Urvel picked up the pace, deciding now to take the lead as Vancano was content hanging back, taking in the sky today. The snow had cleared for a moment, letting the sun rays finally illuminate the frosted walls and glass. The Hall of Elements was, as usual, filled with professors arguing over their jumbled schedules and who had the right to the hall at what time or so. It's a disorganized mess as usual, so Vancano and Urvel paid no mind to it as they rushed up the stairs.

Urvel was dragging his feet by the time they made it to the top of the tower, glowering at Vancano who tried to bite a smile back in vain. Urvel peeked inside the doorway to the Arch-Mage's quarters, taking in the sight of the room. It was very large, even having a loft of sorts which was hidden by dividers. Possibly a living space, Urvel guessed, looking around until he spotted the figure of an older dunmer seated at a desk.

He was old, much older then Tolfdir, and if Urvel had to put a number to him it's be at least 200. Worn and weary from those years, the Arch-Mage held a vaguely interested expression as he glanced to his visitors. He soon sighed, exhausted like he was a town guard who was asked to find a stolen item, which turned out to be a sweetroll of all things. You'd be surprised how many times Urvel bared witness to this back in Cyrodiil.

"How concerned should I be, Vancano." Savos Aren rubbed his tired red eyes, putting down his book as he looked to the tall elf.

"Don't worry, nobody was evaporated this time, sir." ' _Yet_ ' went unspoken.

"Oh, thank Azura." The dunmer sighed in genuine relief, a breath escaping him as his shoulders relaxed from their once eternally stressed hunch. "Well then. You were both apart of Tolfdir's little group, correct? Something must have happened at Saarthal, if it couldn't wait for Tolfdir's official report to be written."

"Yeah, he sent us to find you immediately. We found... well, something. Something big within the Inner Sanctum." Vancano started painting the scene with the skill of a bard, or poet. Describing the scene that was displayed in front of them, with the burial chamber bathed in the mythic blue glow the large Orb emitted. The sheer power it contained, mysterious and unknown as it warded an ancient undead warrior. Savos listened intensely, squinting at the description of the artifact. Urvel hadn't thought about it, but Vancano made an excellent storyteller as well. Of course he did.

"Interesting... I don't believe I heard of something quite like that." He tutted before glancing to Urvel. "Well, I suppose that's a job well done. Vancano-" He gestured to the door. "I both expect a more... detailed report from Tolfdir, and if you may, please assist in bringing the Orb to the college. Don't want a raid from local bandits and losing it, worst all damaging it."

Vancano nodded, making a more playful bow to the Arch-Mage as he started back down the stairs. "Got it, chief. Oh, by the way, Urvel-" The altmer paused by the door, right as the dunmer was about to trail behind. "I'm going to head out now, but check in with Colette about some pain relief if that pain is still bothering you."

"Well great! I was just about able to ignore it from your Mythical Words summarizing our adventure, thanks." Urvel snapped, although without his usual venom as Vancano grinned sheepishly.

"Pff, sorry buddy."

"Pain?" Savos eyed the two wearily, and Urvel felt similar to a kid caught hiding a nasty scrape from his mom. "Did you actually get injured down there?"

"No, no" Urvel shook his head. "Its- its nothing."

"Not sure if Colette mentioned it at monthly meetings, but just some random spikes of pain the past few months." Vancano shrugged, having grown used to the development.

Savos leaned back, humming a bit. "Hm, well I suppose it would be time for those pains..." He mumbled, which made Urvel's ears twitch a bit in curiosity. This was normal?

"Normal is tricky to define, but somewhat, yes." Savos replied with a weak chuckle. "You know of our Chimer ancestors, hm?"

Vancano shrugged as Urvel shook his head, making a gesture that silently said 'Somewhat'. Vancano took this as his cue to leave and head back to the ruins, slipping silently out of the door.

"Well, it's just as of recently, newer generations of Dunmer have been having a growing pain like issue at around 16 or 18 years."

"Isn't that normal for everyone?" Urvel tilted his head, squinting as he sat down, feeling like an impromptu lecture coming up. "I thought everyone keeps growing until like, 20."

"For the races of man, yes. But elves work slightly differently." Savos started to sift through his papers idly as he went on. "Altmer grow at a surprising rate, reaching full height at age 15, at least. With that, painful and sudden growths in height. It's sort of why our elven brothers are mistaken to be older than they actually are."

"Okayy... I am half altmer...?" Urvel only heard it from his mom, but his dad was tall and gold- so he guessed her poetic waxing made his dad an altmer. "Does that affect anything?"

"Well, that would add to it, the Chimer did descent from Aldmer. But some scholars and restoration masters in Morrowind have been theorizing Azura's curse is wearing off on the recent generations of Dunmer, and these sudden spikes of pain are the young dunmer bodies desperately reaching for their former Chimer Height, trying to reject the curse."

"So... dunmer might reach their full height again as they were as Chimer?"

"Quite possibly. However it is a new theory, and with everything that had happened in recent times, what with the Oblivion Crisis and Red year- not many dunmer were born and survived recent years. So it's hard to say for certain."

Urvel nodded slowly, knowing at least vaguely it's a bit rare to see young dunmer. Most he had seen were well into their second century. That's one thing he liked about meeting Brelyna, at least- someone around his age.

"Well... good to know, I guess?"

Savos just nodded, already back into the motions of paperwork. "Well, I won't bog you down with anymore sudden lectures. Go do whatever it is you do, and probably speak to Colette."

"Alright, thank you... sir?"

Savos huffed a laugh.

"How quaint."

* * *

As the wooden door closed behind him, hinges squeaking like they'd need oiling, Urvel eased himself down the stairs back to the Library. Or... did it have another name? Arc- arcadium?

"Who cares..." He grumbled under his breath, crossing and uncrossing his arms as he forced himself step by step. However the Arch-Mages' words stuck with him, which thankfully did lead him into looping thoughts regarding his 'growing pains'. He was raised by a bunch of Nords, or at least nearly a decade of his life. They... wouldn't know about how fast elves would grow, would they? He remembers his adoptive siblings (if he could call them that-) had off and on moments of growth as they grew an inch or two. The eldest reached his full height by 20 or something.

Human growth was slow yet consistent- what did that mean for Urvel then? He reached 5'3 at 12 and hadn't changed at all. That's what he was told was 'normal' height, maybe for someone a bit older than him. And his mother was on the shorter side of dunmer.

Leaning against the staff he had acquired from Saarthal, he entered the library, squinting as he analyzed the room for who he was looking for. The white mages robes of a restoration master caught his eye, sitting at a small table with potion bottles in one hand, the other writing something down. Recipes, reports- it didn't really matter to Urvel as he walked over, peering over Colette's shoulder.

"Miss Colette."

He watched as she jumped in her seat, gasping and barely remembering to keep a grasp on the glass she held.

"Gods almighty, Urvel!" The Breton professor shook her head, gently placing the glass bottles down as she turned to look at the Dunmer. "Don't- do that. Please?"

Urvel shrugged but nodded, while not smiling still had a cheeky quirk to him, eyes squinting in the corners like when someone grins wide. It was weird how different each squint was with his mannerism.

Colette sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "Alright, what do you need this time? Still feeling pain?"

"Worse." He huffed, slumping in a nearby seat and resting the staff from Saarthal against the table as Colette hummed.

"Yes, makes sense. You just returned from the ruins, correct? Sore muscles probably." She replied idly, lifting her bag from the ground and sifting through its contents gently. Truely, for her help with his recent pains she had quickly evolved into his favorite professor at the college. She had certainly appreciated it, what with restoration not often being acknowledged by other mages beyond Temple healers. 

"Here we go" She handed over the vile of light liquid, shimmering blue... Not what they usually look like.

"Is that something new?" He asked, still handing over a small coin purse, a small (but still notable) sum he gathered from Saarthal. Colette smiled, nodding as she watched him with amusement as Urvel eyed the blue concoction.

"Oh yes, I was running low on the normal ingredients and while I was restocking at Whiterun, there was a shipment of stuff from Morrowind." She drummed her fingers proudly on the table. "Ampoule Pod and Scrib Jelly."

Urvel blinked, looking at the blue medicine before shrugging. "Alright, and I'm a test subject, right?"

"Well- no. Maybe in a way." She chuckled nervously. "But don't worry, I had some before and felt fine. Just tired and slept for a full 8 hours. It has some paralyze effects to help with sleep. You probably need it too." She said, pointedly at his eye bags and having the knowledge of his naturally terrible sleepless nights.

Urvel hummed, standing up and giving her a nod of the head in thanks, already starting to walk off to the hall of Attainment. "If you're certain."

"Yes, and I'll prepare some of the normal stuff if it doesn't... work..." Colette trailed off, and Urvel realized she was more looking behind him at something, or someone.

Glancing over with a tired eye Urvel saw the obnoxious height and dark, gold trimmed robes of the fucking Thalmor Agent, _Ancano_. Traits he was okay with on Vancano looked ratty and slimy on the agent. White hair slicked back, usually hidden under a dark hood. He looked gaunt, skin shiny and pale and stretched over bones. Yellow eyes reminding Urvel of an imp, Vancano's on the other hand warm, like a kindling hearthfire. Even Faralda's eyes, whilst cold and calculating, felt more natural as she held a green hue, making them appear hazel in some lights.

There was not a single conventionally attractive feature on this mer's face, and what he might of shared with Vancano was bastardized. Urvel would call it feature snatching, _theft_ , the nose and grand height. Pointy and uncomfortable.

Urvel thinks he's quite comparable to a scamp he'd seen someone summon once.

"You there. I have questions for you." His voice was irritable, high and snobbish. His tone gave off the impression he was _Wasting time_ , merely walking up to Urvel. His accent was also thoroughly stronger than Vancano's, which does make Urvel wonder how long Vancano traveled for, to have his accent and speech pattern change into something unidentifiable and unique.

"No, no you don't." Urvel huffed, already side stepping from the Thalmor as he waved Colette goodbye.

"Yes, I _do_." The Thalmor hissed, using his long arm to block Urvel's way before he could leave the Arcanaeum. "You were in Saarthal, correct? It came to my attention something was found there, if a mere _novice_ was sent to bring news of it immediately." Ancano's eyes squinted, and Urvel returned the glare with a bored expression.

" _Listen_ \- I am frankly too tired to answer any of your stupid questions." Ancano sneered at the blatant disrespect, but Urvel continued before he saw the chance to bitch. "I want **sleep** , so go wait like an actual functioning member of society for an official report from the actual _Arch-Mage_ rather than bugging a student about it."

The two had a staring contest for a good second, Urvel's lips peeling back in a hateful sneer up at the Scamp-like agent.

"Is there a problem here?" The deep, gutter and natural growl of Urag gro-Shub echoed the halls of the Arcanaeum, everyone going deadly still and quiet at the unspoken, threatening tone he announced himself with.

"Bah, Ancano's bugging one of the students. All time low today." Enthir scoffed from his table, stuffing numerous glowing amulets and rings into his bag as he and some other professor were in the midst of a deal before Ancano and Urvel's voices rose.

Ancano, to his own dismay, fumbled over his words at all the eyes glaring at him. Ancano was very clearly outmatched here, with a whole room full of powerful mages staring him down. Daring him to try something on a _minor_. He glanced to his side and quickly looked around, seeing no novice dunmer beside him any longer. Urvel slipped out through the door and to the Hall of Elements, _shadows guide him_ , and thankfully away for now.

" _Smoothed brain imp._ " He hissed, slamming the door to the hall of Attainment open and walking over to his quarters. He slumped onto the bed, a groan escaping him as he rubbed his eyes.

" _No thought, only sleep_ " He muttered as he looked back to the vile Colette given him, and uncorked it. He should probably put away his bag, sort through everything, maybe get some water, but things just _hurt_ now beyond his headache.

He winced at the taste of the tincture, grainy and with a weird consistency this time around- he thinks he was spoiled by Vancano's potion making, gotten used to the floral taste.

But, blissfully, the medicine did its job, the pain fading away and his eyes felt like closing shut. Oh yeah, maybe for once a good night sleep...

* * *

The sun was setting when his ears twitched at the sound of voices echoing in the halls. Groggily, he coughed as he cracked his eyes open. Thanking the gods it was dim in the room, with a burnt out candle at his bedside, he turned his head to look around. It was dark, but easy to pick out the sight of white hair sprawling across the floor from where Vancano fell face first into the bed. Still wearing armor.

What...

Oh, yeah. He helped bring the orb... thingy into the college grounds. Must have been heavy. Poor bastard. Urvel squinted as he yawned, rubbing his eyes- oh, did he pull a blanket over himself while sleeping? Everything was a bit blurry to remember. Then again...

Urvel eyed the glass and pitcher of water that also sat on his bedside table, deciding Vancano was a bit of a dad by nature. He reached out to grab the glass, groaning as his muscles protested sorely, but thankful they at least didn't feel like he landed in glass and nails anymore. The pain had long since dialed down, praise Colette and her skills.

He didn't pay much mind to anything beyond the water as he sipped, carefully- he was warned many times by Vancano to never drink too much water without food as well- and yawned once more. Yeah, five more minutes- then he'd probably pick up a book again.

The darkness took him once more in a careful embrace, easily.

* * *

Whatever was in Colette's potion was _strong_ , gods be damned.

Urvel glared from beyond his blanket fort, having at some point snatched Vancano's in his sleep. Not that the Altmer minded, he was basically made of fire and barely got cold, lucky jackass. Urvel had long since curled up in the tightest ball he could manage, like a cat who was in just too small of a space, and just- slept. Slept and slept for hours until it was well after noon.

And here was the issue. Colette's potion did wonders to dull the pain, basically ridding Urvel of that agony- and now he just couldn't do more then sleep more than he ever had in his life. It reached to a point Vancano tried waking him up, to get him up and moving again with zero success. 8 hours of sleep, more like 12 to 14.

"C'mon buddy, you don't want to see the Orb?" Vancano asked from the water basin, rinsing his hair- cleaning like a palace cat. "We got it inside last night, at the stairwell. Fit like a glove, I'll tell you what."

"... No." He made a face at the audible voice crack, scoffing at Vancano's laugh. "Fu- _U_ -ck you." He coughed again and wallowed in misery.

"Puberty finally hitting buddy?" Vancano giggled as he went back to whatever it was he was doing- Urvel couldn't really see the bottles he held and didn't exactly care.

"First Savos now you- ugh" Urvel decided to return back to his blanket world of shadows, ignoring everything until he was less tired. " _GODS_ what did Colette put in that potion."

"Well whatever it was must be helping, you haven't complained about the pain in a while, and uh- you saw how tall you got, right?"

"... what?" He peeked back out from the blankets, rising an eyebrow a bit. "I haven't left... I've been sleeping. What."

"Pff, yeah man. I saw you wake up, get out of bed and stole my blankets at the crack of dawn. You had to have grown some inches in your sleep, and _Fast_. Almost didn't recognize you."

Urvel frowned deeply, then took a solid minute to muster up enough strength and energy to crawl his ass out of the blanket fort he had accumulated over night, finally standing up and not sleepwalking.

"I don't think people actually grow that fast-"

Oh- _o h shit._

"Well" Vancano began, looking up at the now easily _seven fucking foot tall_ teenager in the center of the room, blanket draped over his head and shoulders like a cape. It's almost comical. "Want me to get you new mage robes? _Beanpole_?" He asked with a smirk, pointing to the fact Urvel's mage robes were terribly short on the lad, when they were originally quite baggy during their trip to Saarthal.

Urvel couldn't dignify a response, looking around the room in one of his first examples of pure shock. Not one of horror of losing his life to a dragon- a comical jaw drop as he was now basically eye level with his Altmer companion, who stood with a proud look, _like a dad,_ as usual.

"What the fuuuckk" Urvel could only mutter. "H o w"

"Would you believe me if I said I seen stranger?"

"You fucking would'v."

* * *

"So we don't have normal novice level robes for someone of your New stature, Mirabelle said she'd ask a local tailor but I just said you can use my old robes." Vancano explained as he tossed the still baffled teen old and dark robes towards him. Urvel just barely caught it, coughing in surprise as, even know Vancano tried shaking them out, dust went everywhere into the air.

"Because this isn't really normal." Urvel coughed once more before looking at the robes given to him. These were very different compared to previous styles of robes he wore, provided by the college or he found on his adventures. They were very old, and what color it might of been faded a lot over time. They were dark and black, and if Urvel focused he could detect maybe a destruction magic enchantment on it. A very powerful one, at that.

"Let me know when you're done, I want to get back to work on my hair." Vancano then left the room to give Urvel some space and privacy... and gods did he need it to keep coping with this sudden change.

Urvel shook his head, taking in the details a bit more to take his mind off of it for now. The robes were dark, maybe once a deep blue and black before fading to a more muted greys. That was fine, really. They were also quite clearly patched up over the years, a slanted cape sewn onto the shoulder, possibly to keep warm those years ago. However, something threw Urvel off about the robes. On the chest piece, it was almost designed like armor, and there was a depiction of a great eagle. Possibly some Aldmeri Dominion design he'd seen a few times.

The robes looked like they might have been longer at some point in time, but were torn to shreds at some point, if the fraying edges were a good indication. But despite its old appearance, it was still in good condition, it's not falling apart and Urvel had to be honest... it's good. Really good craftsmanship and care from its owner kept it together for who knows how long.

Urvel shrugged off his not-even-old-novice robes and shivered, quickly pulling the dark robes on to ward against the chilly afternoon air. He looked down at himself, biting back a laugh when he noticed a convenient spot in the sleeves to stick his thumb through, leaving his palms covered like gloves. Young Vancano might of been surprisingly similar to Urvel in terms of style back then, huh.

He hummed, and reached back to grasp the hood, flipping it over to cover his hair and eclipse his eyes in shadow. Damn, he wished he knew what material this was, being so soft and warm. Probably super expensive, he had to guess.

Right as Urvel was delighted to learnt here was a scarf built in that would hide half his face, he jolted a bit when there was a knock at the door.

"Urvel? You done in there, kiddo? Kinda sucks to have wet hair out here."

Urvel opened the door, seeing the Altmer shaking his hair out and quickly rushing back in, and Urvel swore some ice clung to the very ends of the white hair.

"Thanks, and good, they do fit. Was a bit worried for a minute there." Vancano laughed, and returned back to the basin, warming the water back up with a simple flame in his palm.

"Hm- yeah, thanks... by the way, how old are these? I never really seen a style like this before." Urvel gestured to himself, especially the eagle crest. Vancano paused, looking at him for a moment.

"Oh- uh, very old. It- its before the Aldmeri Dominion went to shit, if you want to ease your mind." He offered, smiling a bit and looking a bit... tired.

_Before_ they went to shit? Urvel remembered them being like this since forever, well before the Oblivion Crisis if he had to say. And also... why would Vancano have armor from the Aldmeri Dominion? Was he apart of them at one point? Or at least associated?

"Okayy then- I'll let that one go." Urvel shrugged, sitting back down and fidgeted for a minute, trying to figure out how on Nirn to let his now longer legs settle. It would take some getting used to, surely... without letting his limbs sprawl everywhere like a rag doll.

"Thanks" Vancano cracked a smirk at Urvel's fumbling, and went back to the basin, shaking his hand as the water was plenty warm again. Again, he went back to brushing out tangles and braids, and Urvel was now able to notice the bottles that rested beside the basin were kinda murky, a deep brown. He couldn't decide what it was, a potion or some dirty water, and to what purpose?

"What's that?"

"Dye." Vancano stated simply, his hair now flat and straight and to his back, no doubt soaking the back of his own robes through.

"Die?" Well that sounds concerning. Did he just _threaten_ Urvel?

"No, not that kind- it's a stain I made." Vancano chuckled, grabbing the bottle and uncorked it, leaning his head over the basin.

" _Stain_ \- you're staining your hair??"

"Just about everyone I explained it to had the same reaction." Vancano was gently pouring the stain onto his white hair, scrubbing it in like one would with soap. "I dyed it many colors over the years- and this is the least crazy thing I done with it."

"Like what?" Urvel couldn't fathom a weirder thing then this. The question however gave Vancano pause- like he was thinking if he should or should not mention something.

"I stained my hair pink once."

"YOU _WHAT_ -"

"IT WAS A PHASE AND I HAVE NO REGRETS!"

Laughter broke out from the room and passersby were left puzzled what could make two roommates howl with laughter like that.

* * *

Urvel, now finally used to Vancano's now deep brown hair, left his room to brave whatever reactions people may have to him. He briefly considered just pretending to be an entirely new student that arrived to save him the hassle of explaining, but frankly he didn't want to bother and Vancano told him it would be just fine.

Compared to other surprises the College may have, this was nothing. Apparently. Urvel is prepared to call bullshit on that.

So he tried to carry on his way to the Hall of Elements, however he still stuck to the shadows like glue as he crept along side the stone walls. His old boots also didn't fit, but he was thankful for hoarding stuff from bandit raids and found nice soft soled leather boots that were still in good condition.

When he entered the Hall of Elements, everyone was gathered around. He could see the trio of J'Zargo, Omund and Brelyna were staring up at awe at the Orb they have discovered, watching runes pass over the surface and vanish. Tolfdir was in deep discussion with a weary Savos and a curious but done-with-everything Mirabelle. Ancano was nowhere to be seen, thankfully, so he went up to the teachers first, walking behind Mirabelle and tapping her shoulder, a message he learned by now he should give when announcing himself.

"Miss Mirabelle...?"

"Oh, Urvel, I was wondering where you and Vancan- _MARA'S TI_ -" Mirabella began speaking before turning around, choking on her own breath as she was taken off guard seeing only Urvel's robes, looking up in shock. Urvel winced, the surprised shout catching the attention of everyone in the room. He shifted from one foot to another as Mirabelle took a deep breath to compose herself.

"Sorry- goodness, when Vancano said you needed new robes, I thought he meant a little growth spurt, not-" She shook her head. "Oh my apologise, Urvel."

Urvel gulped, shrugging her off as he grasp the hood a bit more over his eyes. "... 's fine." He muttered.

"... anyway, we have been discussing this... finding" Mirabelle started, gesturing to the Orb right besides them. "And we decided we're a bit busy and- would you like some extra credit work?"

Urvel rose an eyebrow, gesturing for her to continue. Savos decided to continue, as Toldfir needed someone to ramble off too, and Savos and Mirabelle were trading turns it seems.

"We discussed maybe you should researching about this subject. Anything about strange orbs of this size, or about Saarthal as a whole."

"I did notice your writing needs work, so it would be a good exercise." Mirabelle said when Tolfdir took a second for breath. Urvel scratched his neck a bit, not always confident in his more scholarly writings. Apparently swears were not appropriate for most professional reports.

"Okay, I guess that's good."

Savos nodded, and gestured to door that would lead to the Arcanaeum.

"I would suggest a good start to ask Urag about anything related. I believe there was a book called 'Night of Tears' I read a while ago, may have useful information." Savos then turned his attention back to Tolfdir, who seemed to not need air as he threw theory after theory, to see what might stick. It was funny, but Urvel wanted to leave fast before he got stuck in an never ending loop of ramblings.

It was so strange to see everyone from a birds eye view now, though. He doesn't think he can get used to this, craning his neck down and eyes lowered earlier to converse with Savos and Mirabelle, who just yesterday he was _eye level_ with. At least Savos didn't comment anything, and Tolfdir didn't even notice probably.

But the trio of fellow students- well...

Omund looked like his masculinity was threatened and also in awe at the spectacle. J'Zargo was miffed by being dwarfed, but quickly adopted to calling Urvel ' _beanpole_ ', to the Dunmer's complete and utter dismay.

"Ahh, the beanpole role as been switched! Fascinating, if not infuriating this one has to look up at you." J'zargo grumbled at the end, ears flattening.

Brelyna, had a strange reaction. In that she tried not to express anything at all, just nodding along with Omund and J'zargo. Urvel isn't quite sure why, but he could only shrug it off as he could only give the weak reasoning behind his growth to his fellow classmates.

"I mean, I have heard of Morrowind scholars talking about the theory, but I never thought it could hold some truth..." Brelyna trailed off, staring off into the distance for a moment but shook her head. "Ah- sorry, you must be busy though. Savos gave you a task, right? We'll get out of your way." She giggled, but nonetheless started shoving the Nord and Khajiit closer to the eye for more examining. Or something of that nature, Urvel shrugged it off as he walked away, hearing J'zargo and Omund making a fuss to stop pushing them.

Vancano was chilling by the entrance, watching the students and teachers gather around the orb with a far off look. He jolted when he noticed Urvel, tilting his head.

"Hey, so you spoke with Savos?" He asked as he pushed away from the archway, following Urvel through the doorway to the Arcanaeum.

"Yeah, they gave me a bonus assignment. Research- that thing." Urvel gestured generally behind him, and Vancano nodded.

"Ah, yeah. Not surprising, really. Novices get sent on to research weird stuff a lot, or at least within the Mages Guild."

"For experience?"

"Yep, also master wizards and Arch-Mages are usually training the novices or doing paperwork. Field work is kinda the thing in ' _lower ranks_ '." Vancano rolled his eyes. "I say that loosely, since most ignore it or completely inverse that rule."

"Not the most structured system then?"

Vancano huffed a laugh as they entered the emptied out library.

"Barely any guilds can hold up a system for long. It takes for a _local hero_ to step up, rise through the ranks in a month and revamp it all shiny and new again." Vancano smiled, almost wistful as he then shook his head.

"Anyhow, what are we looking for?"

"Well, Savos mentioned 'night of tears' would be helpful-"

"Which we don't have." Urag gro-Shub's gruff voice made them pause, before they could even near a bookshelf. Urvel was even in mid-grab for a random book to start going through alphabetically.

"... What."

"I _said_ we don't have it." The orc growled, going back to reading his book. "And since news travels fast around here- I don't have anything related to Saarthal or that thing."

Urvel blinked, letting his hand fall limply at his side. Vancano could remember it as a similar state to when Urvel had to first learn Flame atronach to pass the entry test.

"Anymore."

" _Anymore_ \- it's gone? Where did they go?" Urvel questioned lowly, stepping up to the desk and slouching a bit. If they were stolen... well Urvel did know a guild all about that stuff. If it was stolen goods from the college, he could probably make a case to Brynjolf to at least give him information to who had them now...

... then again what sane thief would steal from this orc? A suicidal one, maybe, but not one from a 'professional guild'.

"Tck, a foolish novice named Orthorn ran off to join some group in a ' _Fellglow Keep_ ', somewhere near Whiterun. He stole some of the books when he left, a kind of peace offering to the summoners."

Vancano turned to Urvel, a grin forming on his face with a dangerous glint in his eyes at the mention of 'summoner'.

"... Why are you smiling, this is bad- ... you want to raid the keep don't you."

"Oh _yes_ " Vancano cracked his neck, turning to look at Urag. "Which direction from Whiterun?"

"Eh, eastish. Locals might know more. And the other books are _'On Artaeum'_ and _'Last Kings of the Ayleids'_ , if you happen to see those." Urag grumbled, sitting back into his chair as the two elves started walking out.

"And back to the road we go..." Urvel sighed as he tried to decide what he'd need to bring to survive this journey. Never he thought he'd be traveling so soon after his arrival.

"Better get used to it!" Vancano called out, already diving into their quarters to dig through his own closet for his armor as Urvel just shook his head, looking out at the window. In the afternoon sun, he could still see that _damned_ Azura's Statue.

"Hey, since we're heading out- you think we can make some stops on the way there? Something I wanna check out real quick for a minute."


	7. The Stars Align

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Urvel and Vancano head out to finds books Orthorn stole- and also take a detour in their journey to visit the Shrine of Azura. It quickly derails everything once the unsettling Priestess claims Urvel was 'Choosen'.

"Five is a good number, y'know?" Vancano spoke rather loudly to be heard over the blistering, icy wind. "Because it really lets you-"

" _YOU FUCKING **F R E A K**_." Was his only reply as Urvel threw a fire ball with all his might at the stray bandit who tried, in vain, to flee the already irritate Dunmer mage. They had only stepped out of Winterhold for at the most ten minutes before being swamped by bandits and bloodthirsty _vampires_ alike. As if the impending Dragon Apocalypse wasn't already weighing on everyone's minds, they had vampires to handle. And it only took about getting jumped four times by 3 separate groups that Urvel was beyond done with today's adventure- didn't paint a particularly good picture, what with a few days of travel to even _reach_ Whiterun.

" _Aaaand_ that's four." Vancano shook his head, smiling faintly. "Y'know originally when you said you wanted to see the statue, I'd thought there'd be a bit more excitement."

Urvel snapped his head towards the Altmer, eyes squinted and at some point the scarf had lowered, revealing a scowl deeper then any Vancano seen.

"Don't fucking question my sh _IIT_ -" Urvel's legs then sunk into a particularly deep patch of snow. He scrambled up, hiking his other leg to gain leverage to pull him out like one would with quicksand. Urvel was very much like a baby deer or horse, trying to figure out how to use their long-ass legs for the first time. "... don't sass me." He growled.

Vancano held back a laugh at the others expense, lighting up a simple flame to melt a path as he carried forward. Urvel had gotten a lot more ticked off the morning they left. The local Nords didn't bother them, thankfully- although Vancano was well able to notice many of them stared at the newly grown Dunmer, thinking he was entirely someone new that had snuck into Winterhold, unaware.

But it seemed as the closer they neared their first stop, Azura's shrine, did Urvel's temper started to slowly boil over. His red eyes held a seething rage, forged in Oblivion. It was a bit unnerving, if he was honest. How could such a young kid hold that much resentment for a God he never seemed to notice or care about prior? Vancano could probably count on one hand how many times Urvel mentioned the Daedra, or the Divines at all.

Why would he want to see the Statue, initially out of curiosity, just to raise his blood pressure?

"Soo- any reason you want to see this thing?" _And why you're so angry_ , went unspoken yet clearly understood.

Urvel huffed, rubbing his forehead as he took a deep breath. _In through the nose, hold it, and then out through the mouth..._

"I- I don't know, okay?!" Urvel snapped, before shaking his head. "Sorry- I think I'm _more_ frustrated at the fact I have no idea why I'm so... mad. At that thing." He sneered as he glanced up at the towering shrine. "Its like... like... she's _mocking_ me."

Vancano hummed, tilting his head as he looked at the depiction of the Goddess.

"She's not really a kind God." He stated softly, looking to Urvel who glanced to him. "Very egotistic, from my experiences. And to quote an old friend, " _A big ass bitch_."" He chuckled, calling it a victory as Urvel huffed lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"I like that friend of yours." Urvel shook his head. "But- _why_. I don't know a thing about her, and randomly... feels like she personally executed my mom, or something." That sort of hatred has always been reserved for the Thalmor, ever since she went missing.

"But still, if its making you mad, why go to it at all?" Vancano was frankly a little concern for Urvel's health if he went to the foot of the statue. Oh gods, if Urvel is angry enough seeing the statue, what if he saw a worshipper, or forbid a _Priest_?

He doesn't know the boy's limits, but has as sneaking suspicion fist fighting a priest wouldn't be beyond his morals, if robbing a tomb is no sweat off his back.

"..." Urvel looked at the ground, a low growl rumbling from him before sighing. "I don't know- at first, curiosity. Now... I want to know."

It fell silent as the two made the trek up the hill, braving harsh snow and bright sun reflecting off the vast fields of white. Vancano wasn't too sure if Urvel would want something to distract himself with, or just let the kid be. Stewing in a pot of conflicting and confusing emotions...

Urvel's lips peeled back into a sneer as they reached the carved staircase of the shrine, and he roughly yanked his scarf over his nose, concealing most of his face. The base of the shrine looked like a camp sight- maybe once for a group, but looked barren. Vancano could only guess it was refugees who fled Morrowind, not so long ago. However, someone was definitely still around, if the smell of smoke and the lowest of murmurs were any sign of life.

Guard up, the two crept up the icy steps to the very top- where an alter was build at Azura's feet, hidden in her shadow. At the alter was a robed woman- a monk or priest most likely. She was occupied, not immediately acknowledging the two visitors as she held her hands up towards the statue, praying lowly under her breath. Then, she whipped her head around to face Urvel, who braved the storm and walked ahead. He frankly wish he didn't now, with the fellow Dunmer's unnaturally pale eyes peering into his very soul.

He felt painfully uncomfortable, almost _invaded_ as she spoke up.

"Ah, greetings travelers" She began, observing the two with calculating, but distant eyes. Her voice was low, deepened by ash inhalation from Red Mountain, if they were making any guesses. "Azura has seen to your arrival. Not mere curiosity, but fate herself guided you to this place."

Vancano could see the put-off expression Urvel wore, and cursed silently. _Damn it_ , he really should have pushed to abandon this for another day, shouldn't he? Priests and their Gods love using the Fate card for people to take up quests, good intentions or not.

" _'Seen to my arrival'_?" The hairs on the back of Urvel's neck raised, and his voice lowered. "What is that suppose to mean?

"Azura has given me the gift of foresight, young one" She began, voice monotone and never revealing any ounce of emotion as she took in each detail of Urvel's face she probably could see, beyond the hood and face mask. It was a good mix for a creepy priest. "I had a vision of you, walking up the steps to this very alter, long before you were ever born."

Vancano made a face at that, wincing as he realized that yep, it was going to be another one of those days. Great...

"You have been chosen, boy. To be her champion, and return what was taken from her."

Urvel immediately reacted, shoulders hiking up and hunching much like a cat would. Vancano would even bet Urvel would hiss at the priestess, if she came any closer. Or biting, as Vancano did see her hand hesitate for a moment. That was a common method of comradery, among soldiers or priests. A pat on the shoulder, support from those like you-

Except Vancano remembers vividly one time Ancano brushed against Urvel's arm on accident one lazy day, and had to see Colette to heal the bite marks and scorches.

Good to know she's able to read the room a small bit as she didn't make any move.

"I know its a lot, and unexpected. But it will all fall into place, worry not."

It did little to reassure the Dunmer, and Vancano is willing to bet the priestess doesn't even see him. With those eyes... is she blind? Milky and distant like that...

"There is a fortress, endangered by water, yet untouched by it. Go there, and you will find an elven mage who can turn the brightest star black as night."

"Well that boils it down to ' _a lot_ '." Urvel growled. "There are hundreds of elven mages."

"I know, its very cryptic. But Azura's signs are never wrong. I believe she may mean Winterhold, however." The priestess sighed. "They may know an elven enchanter."

To both their relief, the priestess turned back to the alter, back to humming hymns under her breath. Vancano glanced to Urvel, gesturing wildly behind them they can now leave- and preferably never return. He had one interaction with an Azurian Priest before, and it didn't end too well.

"... who is Azura?" Urvel spoke up, clenching his fist as the priestess turned her head.

"The Mother of Roses, Goddess of Dusk and Dawn. She sees and guides her followers through the twilight and the future. She led us to safety after the Red Year, to this very spot. With her ivory hands and cold eyes, she teaches us how to be."

* * *

"So we're actually doing this?" Vancano quirked an eyebrow at the Dunmer, who shrugged, much more calm after leaving the shrine. Right back they went to Winterhold, Urvel still unnerved by the whole ordeal. Nobody could surely blame him, Daedra get intense to deal with, especially so suddenly like that. Azura specifically is... quite intense when she wants to be.

"... it won't hurt to ask. And I want to see the other side of this story."

Vancano nodded a bit, content enough with that answer at the moment. He will let Urvel lead this journey, and help when needed. He's a growing man, he needs to learn how to handle these things since they seem to spring up in multitudes every era or so. Godly and mortal disputes aplenty for local heroes seeking to prove themselves. Or make money, depends. Urvel seemed more like the person who'd want money instead of fame, and really that's valid in his book.

"Now- where do you think you'd think we'd find a mage who studies the stars?" Vancano asked, like a teacher subtly pointing their student towards the right answer.

"College of Winterhold? Any mage related stuff might be there." Urvel tilted his head at Vancano's smile.

"Yeah, I think I remember something about some group that left the college grounds. Was a bit before I arrived, though." Vancano nodded along as they reached the gate way leading the staircase.

"Don't suppose you heard anything about it, though?"

"Barely, and by the time I arrived the whole event was dying to just a memory. More important things to study, and future disasters to prepare for." Vancano shook his head. "That's how these things go. One big thing happens and before we know it, a month has passed and we move onto the next accident."

"Why are mages so..." Urvel trailed off for a moment. "Chaotic."

Vancano snorted a laugh.

"Because everyone has their quirk, y'know. Warriors tend to be blood thirsty, thieves are magpies- magic wielders are full of arcane energy most of their lives. That has to be aimed somewhere, you said it yourself. You came here to control that chaos."

That he did, Urvel mused idly to himself as they spotted ahead the bundled up Altmer wandering the bridge. Faralda rose an eyebrow at the sight of them, and Vancano could only shrug.

"What are you two still doing here? I thought I heard you were heading for Whiterun." She asked, cupping her hands and lighting a reasonably sized fireball to keep them warm.

"Do you know of an elven mage who studies the stars?" Urvel asks point blank, making Faralda tilt her head in confusion before a realization hit her. "You do?"

" _Gods you're not referring to-_ Vancano what did you tell him?" She squinted at the battlemage, who put his hands up in defense.

"Hey- we just took a pit-stop somewhere and someone asked about it. He got curious, don't blame me." He crossed his arms, huffing at the look she gave him.

"Well- to give context; It was a few years ago, just some overconfident mages who got exiled. Barely any real talent in that bunch..." She growled, before shaking her head. "One of them by the name Nelacar is apparently staying at the inn. Poor thing doesn't have anywhere else to go, I guess."

Urvel couldn't find any reason to give an amount of pity, but nodded to the Altmer. "Thanks." He spoke bluntly, already turning back to speed walk back to the unfortunate village. Vancano shrugged at the look Faralda gave the two, and quickly caught up to trail behind.

He has only been in the inn once, and it was way back months ago when he first arrived to Winterhold. He wonders if Nelacar was there when he first arrived, and just somehow managed to blend into the background beyond Urvel's radar. He would have thought he'd catch a fellow mage in a building full of burly Nords, but he was exhausted at the time...

Vancano went into the inn first, rolling his eyes as some Nords who are more vocal against the incoming elven population quickly glanced over, barely hiding a sneer behind their thick braided beards. He ducked carefully under the doorway, a trained instinct after living in so many Nordic and Imperial buildings with his stature-

A sudden loud thud made him jump, turning around and biting back a laugh as Urvel was rubbing his forehead, glaring daggers at the unfortunately too short of an entry way door.

"You get use to it." Vancano huffed a small laugh, Urvel retaliating by smacking him on the arm. Urvel shook his head, growling lowly as he quickly began to scan the room for anyone matching ' _depressed exiled mage_ ', his eyes crinkling at the corners in victory as he spotted a lone Altmer in purple robes sneaking on by, clinging to the wall as he made an escape towards a bedroom.

Urvel tilted his head towards the Altmer's direction, who had to be this Nelacar, he was sure of it. Vancano nodded, and the two, without any real way to make it seem casual, began approaching the man who studies the stars- or who knows one? Either way, he has information and Urvel was dead set on finding out more.

"You." He spoke, internally screaming as there was no voice crack this time around and the Altmer almost visibly bristled at the low and even voice. "Do you study, or know someone who studies the stars?"

Nelacar winced, and glared back with forest green eyes.

"Why do you need to know? Did the college, or even the Jarl send you? We agreed there would be no more questions!" He snapped, challenging the darkly dressed figure in front of him, but on the inside withered as two pairs of eyes stared him down; one pair like a burning pyre of promised wrath, the other vibrant, blood red and full of rage.

"We were sent to find them by an Azurian priest." Vancano said, slowly as he watched for any reaction, which he received immediately as Nelacar's shoulders slumped like a great weight was put upon him.

"Azura...? Oh gods, its all coming back, isn't it...?" He sounded like a defeated, tired man as his age showed. He flopped onto the nearest chair, combing his fingers through his hair as Urvel and Vancano took it as a sign to sit down as well.

"What... do you know of soul gems?" He started up after a moment, making Urvel quirk an eyebrow.

"For enchanting...? They contain souls and stuff." Urvel looked to his side, watching as Vancano nod at the answer, his expression however gone grim at the mention of the magical jewels. 

"Yes, they are- however the gem is always consumed in the process. They're fragile, for the soul to pass through it... well except for one." Vancano's eyes then widened a bit, a realization hitting him.

"Azura's star..." He mumbled lowly, Urvel tilting his head as Nelacar nodded glumly.

"Yes, a Daedric artifact, designed to be flexible but strong enough to allow any number of souls through it."

Urvel squinted at the mer across from him, remembering the priestess words. "A mage who can turn the brightest of stars black as night..." He never heard of such an artifact- well okay he really doesn't know much about most artifacts beyond a cursed book his mama had ramblings about- and a rose staff? He didn't pay much mind to those old stories at the time.

"Yes, she means you to find _Malyn Varen_ \- he like many of us wanted to know how Azura's star worked as it did. I only wish we knew what he was planning to use it for, once he found his answers." Nelacar looked down, idly tapping his fingers on his knee.

"What did he do with it?" Vancano squinted, and Urvel knew it wasn't going to be pretty answer.

"He wanted to... become immortal. He was old, and diseased ridden. Always has been, I believe. He wanted to alter the star so he could enter it and, affectively, never die. In a way."

Vancano sighed deeply, rubbing his face and appearing more weary. "Of course... and let me guess, he went mad and probably experimented on fellow students?"

"Yes. Eventually he was exiled, took a few followers with him to Ilinalta's Deep- almost vanished from then on."

Urvel stayed quiet as the knowledge settled in, before nodding.

"Okay... thanks." He moved to stand up, a bit uncertain what to do now about this star business before Nelacar suddenly stood up as well, a look of almost panic in his eyes.

"Wait- hang on. I- I don't care who asked of you to find the star, but _please_ , don't return it to Azura." He said in haste, but trying to keep his voice low as to not disturb the majorly Nord audience around.

"Yeah, kid- he's kind of right." Vancano, deciding since everyone was going to stand up did so as well, leaning against the wall. "I mean- no matter she's one of the 'Good' Daedra, they're usually pretty cruel and petty. Her especially."

"Yes, and she's the reason Malyn went insane to begin with. Look- I know you're a Dunmer, and she's apart of your Tribunal but-"

"I'm not religious, so we're good there." Urvel rolled his eyes, and Nelacar paused for a moment before shaking his head.

"... Yes, good. But you must see... the Daedra view us all as nothing. Pawns-"

"To push around and play with, or punish." Vancano finished, and Nelacar slowly eased up as he realized what the two were implying.

"Spoken with experience, it feels like." He eyed Vancano for a moment, and the taller Altmer shrugged.

"Eh, I'm older then everyone in this inn combined- gives a lot of experience for weird Daedra stuff." He chuckled, before gaining that dark eyed look again. "Now, where can we find the keep?"

* * *

"It feels a bit too perfect that its so close by Fellglow." Urvel idly commented, eyeing the half drowned ruin in the middle of the lake. He was thankful, however, to be in slightly warmer conditions than the storm's of oblivion in Winterhold. He was just about tired of his ears turning purple and nearly falling off every time he stepped outside.

Vancano hummed in agreement, over looking the lake while balancing on the ruined remains of what was probably a small dock for fishing boats. The posts were still standing a good few feet above the water, which upon closer investigation revealed a nasty slaughter fish population below the surface.

"You get used to stuff either being very close by to each other- or miles apart. Lets call ourselves lucky, hm?" He cracked a grin, spinning around on the post as he pointed to the sunken keep.

"Well? Let's get a move on."

At that, Urvel's eyes widened as Vancano started running leaps across a series of dock posts scattered across the lake, eventually just hopping across rocks and whatever else he could like a game of Hot Lava.

"What the- since when did you know how to- whatever that is!" Urvel called back irritably, having to take the longer route of having to wade through the shallow end of the water, eyeing below him for those biting little fuckers.

"A friend called it parkour!" Vancano laughed back, and Urvel could only watch as Vancano easily scaled up the side of the tilting tower, finding footholds with ease and altering between using his hands to pull him up and pushing himself with his legs. For a man his size in that much armor, he's far too nimble.

Urvel growled, shaking his head as he could only blast the water to near boiling as a slaughter fish tried nibbling his ankles.

* * *

"Oh, pleasant." Urvel deadpanned as he gazed upon the first thing they walked into seeing, a skeleton in handcuffs hoisted up onto a wooden beam, right behind a small waterfall. "Is this how necromancers greet guests?"

"Basically." Vancano sighed, rubbing his eyes as they just had to walk past the poor dead bastard. Necromancers and other such illegal summoners barely leave any identifying objects on their corpses, so its not like they could find the skeleton's home for proper burial... sad truth they both had learned by now.

"Soo..." Urvel glanced around, taking in the damp scenery. "You going to teach me how to do that parkour stuff?"

Vancano snorted a bit, peeking around a corner for any sign of life. Or, unlife.

"Maybe, if we have the time. I actually find it easier to teach while in a city of some type."

"Why a city? Wouldn't guards be weary of that stuff?" Sounds like the exact thing the Thieves Guild or fuck, even the Dark Brotherhood would have in spades. Which does spark the question who this 'friend' Vancano had was, and why'd they know it too.

"Yes, but a city like Solitude? Or even Windhelm? There are a lot of places to hide, and jump to for safety. I once scaled the White Gold Tower."

"What the- you're fucking lying!" Urvel scoffed, trying to even imagine climbing up that thing- it would send shivers down a normal person's spine to even think of the height.

"I did! And would gladly do it again." Vancano laughed a bit- before putting a hand to his mouth, halting any breath as they watched a feral but tiny skeever scuttle across the damp ground. Right- crumbling ruin full of necromancers.

They fell silent as they crouched down, ears straining to pick up anything beyond water dripping onto the cold stone floors. They inched their way across the winding halls, thankful that there weren't many doorways to check- most where water logged or blocked off completely by the tower collapsing in on itself. There was also little torch light, so they blended in easily with the dark walls and shadows, Urvel mentally thanking Vancano for lending him such dark and shrouded robes.

Then, they reached a doorway, and Vancano leaned out and Urvel swore Vancano just about popped a vain in his forehead. His jaw was set, teeth bared in unholy rage.

" _Necromancer_?" He spoke lowly, and Vancano nodded.

" _And a skeleton- quick lesson." He turned to Urvel, eyes dead serious as he asked; "When met with a Necromancer unaware, with a skeleton army, who do you kill **first**?_"

Urvel squinted, lifting his palm as an orange light filled it.

" _The summoner_."

Vancano smiled proudly as the Necromancer cursed violently as his robes caught fire, bathing the room in an orange light- before being snuffed out into ash and the skeleton fell into pieces without magic holding them together.

* * *

"-more souls are needed for the star, the last one died before he could be harvested- _**gAH**_ "

Room after room, Vancano and Urvel burnt the place to a crisp as they fought through hoards of skeletons and black robed summoners. Really, these dungeon delves get to a point Urvel can't remember much of the journey, Vancano's near blood thirsty rage kind of became background noise he barely payed attention to. He ran out of magicka half way through, and just started using his dwemer dagger; Block, parry, stab- or stab before anyone could think of using a long ranged or close range spell against him. Skeletons weren't too big of an issue either- no muscles, and nobody in the fort was advanced enough to figure out zombies.

Yeah, mother told him one too many stories about her dealing with zombies to think much more on that.

"She always said the _noises_ were the worst." Urvel said, wiping his dagger clean with a random rag he found in a storage room. Vancano nodded quickly, pushing the two dead necromancers aside, both who still held a stunned expression even in death.

"Oh yeah, they were revolting- but the noises..." He shivered. "Pitiful groans, it sounded kind of... wet. Like congestion. And doesn't help the ones I fought a lot during the Oblivion Crisis were for some reason _naked_."

Urvel winced, flipping Vancano off who just laughed.

" _Thanks_ \- like I needed to know that." He groaned, rubbing his eyes as they continued forward. He was hoping they were getting close to the end and could find that damned Star- to hell with that priest lady, he'll just sell it at this rate to get some actual _value_ out of this whole thing. Yeah the gold was nice, and there were many things like soul gems and jewels he collected to get some more septims out of- but seriously.

If he skipped this whole thing and just went for Fellglow keep, he'd probably be on the road back to Winterhold by now. Or _selling_ stuff from Fellglow keep, then heading back.

Urvel sighed, shoving the door down the hall open- his very life flashing before his eyes as a necromancer with particularly fast reflexes blasted an ice spike into the door, nearly impaling him.

" _THERE YOU ARE!_ "

And with this shit again...

* * *

The room was wide, and completely water logged. How could anyone live with themselves here?

"Ahh, another soul for the master-"

The man standing in front of a skeleton on a chair was caught off guard with a well aimed ice spike nailing him in the knee, crippling him with a screech of agony.

" _I HAVE HAD ENOUGH_." Urvel growled, eyes filled with intend as he played with his newly learned spell, clutching his fist as another blast of frost grew in his palms. Vancano fended off the undead, slicing his way through the skeleton army that rose from the watery surface.

"Time to meet your maker you annoying little-" With a growl Urvel finished it all with one spike to the man's head, and he fell over limp, splashing into the water and blood pooled around him, tainting everything. The army crumbled away at once, and Urvel huffed in annoyance.

"Pent up steam, huh kiddo?" Vancano offered a small smile, and Urvel rolled his eyes as he eyed the stairs, deciding to hell with looting the summoner, treaded further upstairs into the ruin. And there, low and behold as he rounded the corner into a dimly lit room of candles- was Mayln Varen. He was long skeletal by now, flesh since decayed away, eaten by time... and skeevers most likely.

And in his lap laid the thing that started it all- Azura's Star. It kind of reminded Urvel of a star fish he once saw in a stall at the market, long winding arms- but he was certain Azura's star wasn't suppose to be missing some pieces like that of the animal. Hesitantly, he lifted the artifact off of the pile of bones, barely even caring the skeleton came undone by the gentlest of movement.

As Mayln's skull rolled across the floor, Urvel couldn't help but feel... _something_. Deep within him, roiling in his gut like a rough tide. His head felt awfully light as he tried to shake his head.

"Urvel...? You okay?" Vancano's voice brought him back to, making him growl as he swung his bag around to stuff the damnable artifact inside. Great...

"Now what? We have the thing, what are we going to do with it?" Urvel frankly didn't want to keep it.

"Hmm..." Vancano tapped his foot against the ground in consideration. "Well- we could sell it at Riverwood or Whiterun, though I don't think its broken state would make much money."

"Well- if we fixed it though...?"

Vancano grinned. "I think we know what mage would have knowledge to do that."

And if that meant the star may stay as the blackened star... well so be it. Not like Azura ever did anything for him.

* * *

If Urvel was glad for one thing, it was the fact merchants don't tend to question where you get the stuff you sell. After all, mercenaries were far more common in Skyrim than the Imperial City, and whatever they didn't want they would just sell off for extra coin. Urvel once had a hard time selling a stale, but stolen, piece of bread to a merchant once... but this Whiterun shop owner took his dozens of soul gems and jewels without a second thought, paying in full with a smile.

He wasn't sure how he felt being back in Whiterun, it was both nostalgic and also... uncomfortable. He really, _really_ , hoped people had forgotten that whole ordeal back at the Western Watchtower... or at the very least wouldn't recognize him due to his new found height.

For some reason, he doesn't want Vancano of all people to know of that dragonborn mess- he seems like the type of old wise man in stories to give confidence to younger heroes. Well, too bad because Urvel wanted _none_ of it.

Which is why he'll cuss out any and all Gods out there for letting a very coincidental _dragon_ swoop down on Whiterun, roaring and heaving ice storms upon the entire city, freezing everyone to their core.

People were in a panic, warriors and guards gathering up bow and arrows to try and shoot the creature down while women, children and the unable were rushed into the crypts and anywhere safe. Urvel and Vancano- _ughh_ as much as Urvel didn't want to go through it again, he has to push through. Vancano would understand- he wouldn't make a _fuss_ \- he wouldn't...

Urvel snarled, shaking his head as he ran out the gates, tracking the dragon as it made a bellowing cry as it tumbled to the ground outside Whiterun's gate. Vancano called out to him, yelling at him to keep his distance, but Urvel couldn't, he had to-

With his newly polished and improved dagger gripped tightly in his hand, a fire ball forming in the other, he leapt towards the dragon, damning everything that let it exist. The dragon howled as the flames licked at the skin, from where scales were chipped off like weakened armor. It snapped at Urvel with its giant maw, ghostly pale eyes that were unsettlingly aware of what it was doing. It was _not_ an animal defending itself.

Urvel yelled back, his teeth and entire being rattling from the _force_ , his left hand grabbing the dragon's horn and heaved himself up atop his head. He tried to thrash Urvel off, his bellowing voice damning Urvel's existence right back as Urvel, with his might, broke through steel-like scales to bone.

Soon, the dragon crumbled, a dying gasp escaping him as he fell limply to the ground. Urvel hopped off in time before it could land on him- and Urvel caught sight of his white eyes, which slowly dimmed as the dragon's soul faded away. It... hurt.

Hurt more then he could ever imagine, as the dragon's soul entered his body, his entire being being circled by elder knowledge.

He couldn't be more thankful after the battle, the sun had long set by now.

"Urvel...?" Vancano stood by him, in front of the grand skeleton that laid before Whiterun's gate.

"... Let's get out of here."

And with that, no questions were asked nor answered. And that was completely fine for now.

* * *

The two decided inside of renting rooms in a public inn, to just camp outside. Recently the Companions had raided and killed a giant that was chilling nearby Whiterun, for honor or some other reason, so there was a giant camp to check out and maybe sleep by.

Their smaller fire was kind of funny next to the large, heaving bonfire the giant originally set up, but it worked well enough.

"Fellglow isn't too far, once we finish that up and get the books, we can start making our way back to Winterhold." Vancano stretched, yawning as he looked up at the night sky, with the aurora borealis circling above them, bright blues and teals coloring the otherwise black sky, _Masser_ and _Secunda_ out being the stars of the show in the sky.

Meanwhile, Urvel sat on his bedroll, staring blankly ahead and vaguely in Vancano's direction. Vancano turned his head, raising an eyebrow.

"What? Something on my face?"

Urvel squinted. "... well? Do you not have questions?"

Vancano stared blankly for a moment, curious as to what Urvel even meant, before his eyes widened a bit.

"Ohh... that. Well-" Vancano scratched his neck, wincing as he realized he probably needed to take care of the already couple-day stubble. Or maybe he'd keep it this time around...

"And?"

"If you weren't already going to tell me on your own accord, I have no reason or right to ask." Vancano shrugged, then gave Urvel a pointed look. "Nobody can force you to say anything- but know I won't judge or treat you differently, okay?"

With that, Vancano went back to stargazing, and Urvel was left blissfully with his own thoughts to mull over.

* * *

In the morning, they finally got back on track with getting those books back from Fellglow Keep. And at that point Urvel thought Ilinalta's Deep was big- Fellglow had a lot more rooms and areas to check out and it already gave him a headache. But the slight kleptomania within him was overjoyed to fill his coin purse and bag with shiny things to sell. He couldn't bare parting from his dwemer dagger, which he had grown surprisingly attached to- so any other unique daggers were simply kept to sell.

"I can tell you're from the Imperial City, you have a real eye for making money... in dubiously legal ways." Vancano chuckled as Urvel swept an arm load of loose coin purses into his bag.

"Hey, I was poor growing up. Well- kind of? Mom had money, before she disappeared- and the bank 'lost it'." He growled at the end there, coughing a bit.

"Hey, keep growling like that and you'll sound like a Morrowind native in no time."

Urvel rolled his eyes (a habit he might have to try and break in the future-) and walked down the steps through the ruin, pausing as he heard a voice... higher pitched and... yep that's an Aldmeri accent if he ever heard one. A bit weaker than Ancano's though, so no Thalmor... probably.

Must be that Orthorn idiot.

A howling could also be heard, which meant some type of attack dogs. Urvel and Vancano peeked around the corner, seeing a prison area of sorts. There were wolves, an altmer mage (So many damn Altmer)... and _ohh-kayy_ a werewolf- actually no a were _bear_ in three cages respectively.

Urvel looked to Vancano, who nodded, summoning two spells into his hands. One a burning flame, the other the gentle and deceiving glow of a restoration spell. A spell of his own making, as he charged into the room, casting down a healing light that even burned Urvel's own eyes to look directly at. A healing orb for allies- and firey doom for anyone Vancano registered as an enemy.

Urvel bolted to the shadows, dagger gleaming as Vancano distracted the summoner, who cried out for the now uncaged wolves to attack the intruders. However he was stopped in his tracks as a knife went straight through his back, scraping against bone with a cut of scream.

The werebear was growling, so Urvel decided not to do anything about _that_ \- as he eyed the caged altmer, who stared at the battle scene- well maybe that's not the right word for it. A battle implied either side could have a chance at victory.

"Hey, you." Urvel stepped forward, eyeing Orthorn with slight judgement. "You're Orthorn?"

"Yes! Oh, please tell me you're here to get me out-"

"If you can tell me where the books you _stole_ are, yes." Urvel squinted, watching as Orthorn grew more sheepish by the second.

"Ah, yes! The books, uh... was hoping-"

"Quit stumbling and tell me who might have them." Urvel was not exactly in the mood to entertain anyone at the moment, and wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. Who knew he wanted to go back reading himself to near death with essays to write?

"The- The Caller would have them. She was very interested in one of the volumes." Orthorn explained as Vancano, in the background, tried figuring out which lever would open Orthorn's cage and not the one with the werebear eyeing them up like they're a nobleman's holiday feast.

With a clang the door swung open, Urvel stepping back calmly as Orthorn quickly rushed outside, gesturing to the door continuing forward.

"The Caller usually stays in the top of the ruin, that's where she would reside- careful, she is very powerful and dangerous. Uhm, maybe I could assist-?"

"No, you need to leave here." Urvel deadpanned, already taking his dagger out and walked towards the door.

"Um, are you certain-?"

"Absolutely."

* * *

"So, you're the one who barged in my home and laid waste to my projects." The Caller sneered at the sight of the tall elf, wielding a blade in one hand and a flame in the other. He sneered at her, eyes burning.

"I'm here for one thing, and its those books Orthorn stole." He snapped, fingers flexing on the grip of his weapon as he allowed his eyes to drift, just for a moment, to take in the room. It was a wide open space, and clearly repurposed as a ritual room catered to the Caller's needs. Shadows were dense in the corners.

"Tck, so you're just one of Aren's lackeys? Truly disappointing, you showed real prom- **_GAH_** -" She was frozen as Urvel had decided to sneak around in the darkness and take her off guard, wrapping a long arm around her torso and slamming his dagger into her chest, blood spurting from the fresh wound.

She crumbled to the ground, and Vancano simply rolled his neck.

"You sure your mother wasn't an assassin?" He idly asked, walking over to one of the pillars and picking up the tome ' _Fragment: On Artaeum_ ', squinting at its contents.

"Gods- if her stories hold merit, she about joined every guild that could exist. I wouldn't put it past her for assassin, for like a week." Urvel huffed a bit, picking up the other two books, which one was actually on The Caller's person, in her bag. Night Of Tears...

"Hey, the siege on Saarthal was the Night of Tears, right?" Urvel asked, flipping the book open and scanning the old pages.

"Yeah, think you found something useful?" Vancano replied, putting his book into his bag for safe keeping.

"Yeah... yeah, towards the end. It says there was something buried under Saarthal, something of great power..." Urvel got a far off look for a moment, shivering as he remembered the sheer energy that orb thing gave off.

Vancano took a peek at the book, nodding as his eyes scanned it.

"Yeah, I think this is what we're looking for."

Thank gods, that meant time for Winterhold.

* * *

"Okay. What the fuck is Azura's deal."

Nelacar jumped in his seat, almost dropping his journal into his bowl of rabbit stew as Urvel slammed something on the table in front of him, making a glass-like sound. He glared at the boy, who only stared blankly as he took in what he had brought him. He gulped, realizing what was in front of him.

"Stendarr's mercy... you found it." He closed his book in a hurry, sliding it away as he gently lifted the damaged artifact. "Azura's star..."

"Yeah, now tell me honestly; What is Azura, and what's her... sphere." Urvel couldn't quite remember the term, what Daedra or any god would have control over something.

Nelacar coughed, resting the star back onto the table.

"Ah, well- she is the main, big figure Goddess to the Dunmeri Tribunal- but she is a dangerous prince. There's, ah... a reason Morrowind had loose slavery laws until the Twin Lamps came around in the 2nd era."

Urvel sucked in a breath, his hands clenching and he knew in an instant a nail broke, others digging into his palm- before he forcefully relaxed his hands so he didn't created bleeding, crescent moon marks.

"She's a _Slave God_?" He asked in a forced tone, now understanding why everything about her statue made him boil. Nelacar nodded grimly.

"Yes, one book even spoke of her having 'Virtual slaves' as partners. She was allied with Molag Bal once." At the confuse tilt of Urvel's head, he clarified. "Ah, an ancient prince long gone. Original creator of vampires... and lord of domination. Many don't speak of him after the Soul Burst."

Urvel nodded, having only the faintest knowledge of this Soul Burst... something to look into, no doubt.

"Right... and now what do we do? I will not keep something with ties to _her_." He spat venom, sneering at the mangled star.

Nelacar looked at the star with a forlorn consideration, and really Urvel was certain he could get more uses out of it than he could.

"Maybe... I can set things right. No doubt Malyn is in there- but its incomplete. If I could finish it... maybe something good can come of it."

_Soul trapping people, sure_ , Urvel thought sarcastically.

"It would cut off Azura's connection to it entirely."

"Now we're talking, how do we do that?" Urvel was now eager to finish this damn thing once in for all.

"Lets see..." Nelacar stood up, examining the star before glancing around. "Where's that fellow mage of yours? I could actually use his help, if he's as tough as I think he is."

Urvel scoffed, barely even offended at what he implied. "He went to return something to the College, some idiot stole some books we needed. But I can do it- what do you have in mind?"

Nelacar sighed, shaking his head but went over to a table, laying the star atop it gently. "Malyn's soul is in here, but it was a sloppy job. The whole thing is cracking at the seams..."

"Well, I overheard some of his followers mentioning sacrifices. Souls to maintain it?"

"Yes... yes, that must be it. So to finish the job, we need him _out_."

Urvel thought idly for a moment.

"Could we just enchant something with his soul, or?"

Nelacar hummed, frowning before a look of consideration appeared on his face.

"Maybe... I would have to focus to use his, but probably. Its still a soul gem, after all."

* * *

Urvel whistled, very pleased with himself as he held up the midnight black star up to take in its appearance. Malyn's poor bastardous soul also made a nice fire enchantment payment. And he felt... good. Better then he has been the past few days. He was walking around the out skirts of Winterhold, deciding it was a good time to practice magic in the outdoors since it wasn't hailing like an icy version of Oblivion itself.

"Someone's in a good mood." Urvel turned around to see Vancano smiling, tilting his head curiously. "What's the occasion?"

"Can't a guy smile because he feels like it?" Urvel squinted, before holding up the Black Star with the smuggest of grins.

"Ohh, my gods." Vancano put a hand to his mouth, a wheeze escaping him for a moment. "You didn't- is that?"

"I _did,_ and _yes_ it is" Urvel balanced on the balls of his feet, leaning back with pride. "Victory has never been sweeter-"

" ** _WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?_** "

Both men jumped in surprise at the shrilly yell from the seething Azurian Priestess, who despite her blindness glared ill intent towards the young Dunmer. Vancano stepped up, standing in front of Urvel as the two Dunmer had a stare down, before those ghostly eyes made sight with the darkened star. She gasped, hands reaching up to grip her hair in outrage.

"THE STAR! YOU _\- YOU TAINTED IT!_ "

She was seething, sounding like she had trouble breathing as a glow started emitting from her hands. It grew almost painfully bright, and Vancano made Urvel step back in case she was going to explode or something-

"My Goddess, I'm sorry, I don't understand- I- I-" She heaved, coughing as suddenly her eyes, once clenched in pain blinked open into a blinding gold glow.

" _ **NO**! You were suppose to **OBEY**! You were suppose to say 'Yes, beautiful Azura-!'_"

Within an instant, bathed in gold light the Priestess with glowing eyes held up a Moon and Star, her voice overlapped by a booming, feminine voice that could and would be heard miles away.

" _'I would gladly murder at the snap of your ivory fingers!'_ You absolute _brat_! I'm the reason you're here, I'm the reason you and your grandfather were even **_Born_**!"

Without a second thought, an Ice Spike was thrown straight through the Priestess' chest, her own voice gasping in pain as red stained the snow behind her. With fading life force, there was barely a connection for Azura to speak through, barely a vessel to use as life bled away.

She collapsed backwards, and Vancano, without really thinking, dove forward, catching the Priestess who's eyes faded to normal, milky white. She coughed, heaving as blood dribbled down her chin. Urvel was frozen, Azura's own words processing in his mind as he slumped to his knees besides Vancano.

" _I- why...? Why did you do that...?_ " She could only ask, staring up distantly at where she thought the two were. " _She asked for you... predicted you... choose you... why- why would...?_ "

"... I don't listen to Slave Gods." Urvel spoke lowly, yet stood his ground as the Priestess coughed in surprise.

" _I... she's disappointed in me, I know it- I tried to... to point you... guide you..._ " She shakily rose a hand, before letting it fall helplessly. " _I failed to see her vision through.. my one duty..._ "

"... What's your name?" Vancano asked lowly, looking at the wavering eyes of the Priest.

"... _A- Aranea... Aranea Ienith_." She convulsed once more as she coughed, Vancano barely caring it got on his gauntlet.

"Aranea, there's only so much time, I'm sorry. Where..." He paused. "Where do you want to be laid to rest?"

The Priestess, Aranea, choked back a weak sob as she mumbled she had a family tomb back in Morrowind, but it was destroyed in Red Year.

"... I will get your remains to Morrowind, okay?"

" _Why...? I- you heard the boy, I followed a... a_ slave _god_." She spat.

"Everyone deserves to be put to rest peacefully, Aranea. I'm sorry this is how we met, and part."

Urvel gulped, and hesitantly put his own warm hand over her own cold, icy and frigid hands.

"I'm- sorry. I can't undo this..."

" _...what is she going to think?_ "

"Of you? That I cannot say. You deserved more then the life you were given."

Vancano mumbled something lowly, Urvel thinks for a moment Aldmeri... but the words were harsher then Aldmeri.

Aranea took one last breath, exhaled... and that was it.

"Rest well, Ienith. Your ancestors should be proud of you."

And if they're not, well... Urvel wouldn't mind beating up a ghost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It got sad by itself, I swear.
> 
> It was originally suppose to end with Urvel egging Azura's statue like a Halloween prank- not t h i s.
> 
> Pro Tip: Unless you want to hurt emotionally, don't put extra thought into a character, especially when your protagonist is easily set off and has a new ice spike spell.


End file.
